


Shackled in Silver

by spyrosapyro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:16:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 45,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyrosapyro/pseuds/spyrosapyro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is put under the care of Severus Snape as a well known enemy rises after the Great War. Needless to say, neither is extremely happy about the situation. But it can't be all bad, can it? Longfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only wish to lay claim to anything Harry Potter

The knock was unexpected as Severus Snape sat in his dark, wing-backed chair looking over his latest potions journal. A second, hard rap sent him, mumbling, over to the door. He pulled the door open, getting ready to send the intruder on his way. Looking into the dim circle thrown by his porch light, he lost his words. A grim looking Kingsley Shacklebolt was holding on rather tightly to Harry Potter. The boy looked as if he had just lost his best friend.

"Severus," Shacklebolt greeted.

"Minister," Snape said stiffly, slightly inclining his head.

"May we come in?" Kingsley looked warily back down the street behind him.

Snape sighed, sensing an end to his rather pleasant evening. "Yes, of course," he said, standing to the side to let them pass.

Shacklebolt nudged Potter ahead of him, as if afraid the boy would bolt; Severus almost hoped he would. He shut the door behind them and stood for a second, hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. When he turned to face the room, Shacklebolt's eyes were trained on him. He glanced at Potter, who had his arms crossed, glaring at a point behind Snape. He swallowed hard at the sight of the green eyes, so like Lily's. One glance at the rest of the boy, however, and the sharp sting of dislike hit him. It was like James Potter standing in his living room. The thought made him clench his fists in anger. He reassembled his features into his usual mask of cool indifference.

"To what do I owe this...honor?" he asked, trying to keep the disdain from his voice.

"Greyback has come out of hiding. He is rounding up all of the Death Eaters we missed, as well as recruiting new forces. While we are not afraid at this point of another He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the threat to Mr. Potter is substantial." Snape nodded, not sure where he fit into this. "So we need someone to watch over him."

"I can watch over myself," Harry mumbled dejectedly, sounding as if he had fought this battle numerous times already.

"This is bigger than you, Potter. We ask that you help here, Severus. Very few people know of your return, and even fewer know your whereabouts. Most will look at Spinners End."

"You want _me_ to look after him?" he asked incredulously.

"After the Great War, and everything with Albus..." he trailed off. Severus raised an eyebrow. "We know we can trust you to protect him. And his fame means nothing to you."

Snape couldn't deny the truth to the second half of his words. He sighed heavily, acknowledging that he couldn't well deny the Minister of Magic, no matter how ludicrous. "How long?" he asked, not caring now as to his tone of voice.

"Until we have found and apprehended Greyback and all of his followers."

"I do not see any choice in the matter," he said venomously.

"I knew you would oblige," Shacklebolt said stiffly, showing his dislike for the man for the first time. A quick grin flitted across Potter's face.

Scowling, Severus put a cap on his temper and said "Very well. I trust that is all?"

Shacklebolt shifted uncomfortably. "Just the quick ceremony and I'll be on my way."

" _What ceremon_ y?" Snape growled, voice dangerously low.

"The bonding ceremony," Shacklebolt answered.

"No. Definitely not. I already agreed, did I not?"

Harry grimaced up at the Minister. "Told you this was a bad idea, and not just because I personally think he's a slimy old git," he said, as if Snape were not standing two feet from him.

Shacklebolt glared at them both. "This is necessary, Severus. I need something more than your word. Now, gentleman, please, this is going to happen," he said forcefully.

"Like hell it is," Snape spat.

"I'm actually with him on this one," Harry added.

"It _is_ ," for the first time since arriving, Shacklebolt raised his voice menacingly.

Severus sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through his hair. "Which ceremony?" he asked, tired.

"You will be more of bond-mates than the traditional spouse."

"Ah," Snape said quietly. It was a ceremony usually used for alliances of power rather than love. More powerful, and damn near impossible to get around.

"What does that mean?" Potter asked, sounding like a whiny school boy.

Shacklebolt sighed impatiently. "It is more like an Unbreakable Vow than a wedding service. Basically the same commitment, but there's no easy way out."

"Great," Potter mumbled under his breath.

"Well, let's get to it than," Kingsley straightened and withdrew his wand. "Alright, clasp your wand hands together."

Severus stiffly held out his right hand to the boy, who stood still, glaring at him. "Harry," Kingsley prompted. They stood, waiting, as Harry remained unmoving. Snape's eyes hardened as he reached out and roughly drew Harry's hand to him. He jerked the boy forward with the force and glared at the green eyes as he held his forearm tightly. With his left hand he wrapped the slender fingers of Harry's hand around his own wrist. Without looking away from the brat, he growled "Proceed."

"You seem awfully eager," Harry said, voice full of malice, the fight returning to his eyes.

"I do not have the irrational sense of being better and above the Minister, Potter. That is the difference."

Harry snorted once. "Right. You aren't Mr. High-and-Mighty at all."

"You are pretty high in your limelight, are you not? Do you find the view is any better?"

"Because I _want_ to be this famous," Harry said, voice thick with sarcasm.

Now it was Snape's turn to snort. "I don't-"

"Enough!" Shacklebolt yelled. "Continue this later, if you must, but I have a whole ministry to get back to. I can do this the hard way if I have to. I may be your friend, Harry, but I'm the Minister first. Now, behave. Both of you."

Harry glared hard at Snape, who returned the stare steadily. Shacklebolt placed his wand tip on their clasped arms and Severus shifted his gaze to the man.

"We'll go with you first." Snape nodded. "Repeat after me, please. I, Severus Snape, pledge myself over to Harry Potter."

Snape repeated reluctantly, and a strand of pale green light wove around their hands. "My actions will be for his well-being and I will do all I can to keep him safe until all threats are eliminated." A second, silver strand came from the Ministers wand. "This is my vow."

"This is my vow," the silky voice swore. The two strands glowed white and grew warm. After Harry had made the same vow - with considerable force from Shacklebolt - and red and gold strands had wound themselves with the others, all four grew hotter and brighter, until suddenly they vanished.

"That's it?" Harry asked. Shacklebolt excused himself and rushed out the door, thanking Severus. Snape fell into his chair and summoned a glass of firewhiskey.

"That's it?" Harry asked again, unbelieving.

" _It_?" Severus rounded on him. "That's _it_? Do you understand _nothing_? We've just handed our lives over. We break that vow, we die," he said, bitter. Harry said nothing. "Yes. That's it."

"Only until Greyback is found and taken out," Harry stated, as if it were really that simple.

"Which could take years. He hasn't been caught yet because he doesn't want to be. He's more clever than anyone thinks."

"It's not like I wanted this either." he said defensively.

"That makes me feel so much better."

"Oh, shove off, Snape."

"Gladly," he stood up and downed the rest of his drink. "Sleep where you want. Just don't ruin anything," he strode over to a door off of the main room, just to the side of the fireplace.

Harry sighed and sat down as the door clicked shut behind the older man. He couldn't believe this. He had defeated Voldemort for Merlin's sake! He shouldn't be being treated like a child anymore. And of all people, why Snape? Everyone knew of their animosity towards one another. He had heard of the mans survival, of course - there were very few social circles that Harry was not privy to - he had simply not cared either way. He was grateful for all the risk and effort on Snape's end, but to him that simply negated all the years of detention, deducting points and humiliation.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair; He hadn't had a chance to shower yet today. Kingsley had arrived at his front door at an ungodly hour, demanding that he come with him. After a full day spent at the Ministry, left frustratingly out of the proceedings that had everything to do with him, he was informed of the plan, and promptly taken by the arm and apparated to the end of Snape's dimly lit street.

He sighed, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had arrived. The room was of a medium size, nothing too modest. But than again, the whole house was rather small. Harry supposed it was perfect for the secluded old ex-Potions Master. The couch he was seated on was a dark brown leather, and the wing-backed chair that was apparently Snape's was jet black. The hardwood floors were scuffed and scratched, but clean enough, and the throw rug under the coffee table sitting in front of Harry was worn and faded. All of the furniture was made of a dark wood, and devoid of any personal trinkets of any kind. A solitary lamp cast an eerie glow from the side table beside the arm chair.

Harry stood up and crossed to turn the lamp off. He trudged back to the couch, banging his leg loudly on the corner of the coffee table. He swore once as he rubbed the spot just underneath his knee as it began to throb. A muttered 'Lumos' lit up the room so he could make his way back, accident free. As he laid down on the couch, the door to Snape's room opened, and the tall wizard strode out and past Harry. He listened as Snape clattered around in the kitchen, getting a drink of water.

"Insomiac, too? This'll be fun," Harry shot at him as he passed by again.

"Light sleeper," he answered simply, never even turning to Harry as he continued on his way. He stopped in the doorway to his room. "Try not to run into my furniture anymore. Not only did I instruct you not to ruin my things, it makes it incredibly difficult to get any sleep. And Merlin knows, dealing with you, I will need all that I can get." And with that, he closed the door behind him, leaving Harry to a dark, empty room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

He awoke to a pillow and blanket being dumped unceremoniously onto his chest. He opened his eyes groggily, grumbling his annoyance.

"For your _'well-being',_ " Snape said mockingly, walking away with a mug of coffee.

Harry sighed heavily and shoved them off of him, sitting up. He looked to the chair as Snape sat down, glaring as best he could for being up less than five minutes.

"Thanks," he said, intending to match the man in his sarcasm. All that came out, however, was a half-hearted croak. He cleared his throat as the older man smirked.

"Clean that up," he nodded to the pile of discarded blankets.

Harry glared at him for a few more seconds before picking them up and stacking them on the couch, next to the armrest. He rubbed a hand over his face and retrieved his glasses, trying to ignore the man looking disgustedly at him. "I haven't even done anything," Harry mumbled, defensive.

"Anticipation is the worst part," came the quick reply.

Harry rolled his eyes and got up, wandering through the living room and making his way towards what he hoped was the kitchen. He walked into the small, tiled room and sighed. He looked in the fridge, and than the pantry, finding no acceptable food.

"Please, do help yourself," Snape said from the doorway, sounding annoyed.

"Hey, what's mine is yours, _partner_ ," Harry smirked. "What's in here?" he asked, looking at a door off in the corner of the room. He could see no doorknob, and it didn't open when he pushed on it.

"Nothing of concern to you," Snape said coolly as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

Harry turned and leveled the man with a stare. "After six years as my teacher, have you not learned I am nothing if not stubborn?"

"Stubborn? No. Exceedingly spoiled, yes."

Harry shrugged. "Either way."

Snape sighed. "It is my private stock and study. It opens only for my touch, so don't waste your time trying to steal anything else."

"Anything else? I haven't even been here 24 hours."

"Gillyweed, several expensive polyjuice ingredients..." he trailed off.

"That was second and fourth year!" Harry exclaimed. "And it wasn't even me."

"Of course it wasn't."

"Hermione got the ingredients for the potion. And Dobby stole the Gillyweed, thanks." Harry shot at him defensively.

Snape waved this away, and walked back into the living room. Harry grumbled and picked out a box of bland-looking cereal. He dumped five heaping spoonfuls of sugar on top and retreated back to his couch. Snape was seated in his chair, coffee in one hand, Daily Prophet in the other. Harry sat down and began eating morosely, thinking about how soon he would go crazy living with this prick. He gave himself a week. He pushed the remaining cereal around his bowl, clinking the spoon on the sides. An impatient sigh sounded across from him. He looked up to find Snape staring at him over the top of his newspaper.

"Is it necessary for you to make noise incessantly?"

Harry scowled, putting his bowl down on the coffee table. "Why did you agree if you don't even have anywhere for me to sleep?" he asked grumpily.

"I had no choice. And I do have somewhere for you to sleep. You're sitting on it," he said nonchalantly, never looking up from his paper.

Harry grumbled but a tap on the window to his left cut off his reply. He glanced over and saw his snowy white owl peering in at him.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed, smiling for the first time since he stepped onto the porch steps. He jumped up to let her in, laughing when she nibbled his ear and hooted affectionately. "I missed you too, girl," he patted her head and untied the parchment tied to her outstretched leg. Harry unrolled the letter and smiled wider, recognizing Hermione's neat handwriting.

"I'm going to the Burrow this weekend," he announced, scanning the contents of the letter.

"No, we're not," Snape said dismissively.

"I don't believe I remember inviting you,"

"It is automatic, Potter. Thanks to our vow. And we're not going."

"Our vow does not say we are to be inseparable," Harry countered.

"Say something were to happen to you while we are apart. Than I have not done all in my power to keep you safe, as I was not there in the first place should the need arise. Effectively breaking my vow. Going to the Weasleys is not worth giving up my time. Or life," he explained with an air of impatience.

"Depends who you ask," Harry mumbled. Snape rolled his eyes and ignored the comment, leaving Harry to sit glumly and idly pet Hedwig. "Please, come on. Just for the weekend," he pleaded, unable to stay silent.

"No."

"Saturday."

" _No_ , Potter. Leave me alone."

Harry harrumphed and laid back into the couch, crossing his arms and pouting. He chewed the inside of his lip and stared across at the dour old man. He narrowed his green eyes and waited. The onyx eyes glanced up once, and returned to his paper. Harry kept his gaze steady. Snape glanced up again, feeling the boys gaze fixed on him. He grumbled and tried to ignore him, shifting to read the next article.

"What?" he finally snapped.

"Dinner."

"I said no."

"I say yes." Harry countered. "I'll go without you. Knowing you, there'll be no threat to your safety seeing as you don't leave this damn house, so I'll be fine when it comes to the vow. I'm going. With or without you."

"And what makes you so sure of my agenda?"

Harry snorted. "Doesn't take a genius to figure out you have no life. I'm goingto the Burrow. And I'm _going_ to see the Weasleys, whether you come or not."

Snape glared icily at him. "You are not."

"I am. And I'm staying the whole weekend," he spat back. "Shall I decide to come back at all."

"You think I won't come for you?"

"If you'd be able to find me. I could be anywhere by the time you walked through the front door." Harry grinned wickedly, smelling his victory.

There was no way Snape could deny the truth to his words. He'd bet the wizard had been planning on him not having the guts to fight him. What he didn't plan on, however, was the (sometimes foolish) Gryffindor bravery, and Harry's fiery desire to leave this house. He wasn't his professor anymore, he couldn't deduct house points, nor could he give him detentions. Harry's smile faltered as he thought of what he could do now that they were forced together. He swallowed once and steeled himself. He didn't care. He wasn't going to let the git run, or ruin, his life.

"Dinner," Snape bargained.

"Saturday," Harry countered.

Snape growled. "You push my buttons, Potter. I should just kill you myself."

Harry blinked once.

"Saturday," he agreed, voice filled with more venom than he had ever heard before.

"Thanks," Harry smiled sweetly. "Honey," he added, savoring the expression on Snape's face.

He got up quickly and darted the hexes aimed at him, making his way to the bathroom to take a shower, reveling in his first victory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of this lovely series, or else I'd be having tea with a Mr. Severus Snape.

"Bloody hell, mate. I thought after the war you'd be able to have a bit of  a life for yourself," Ron rubbed his forehead, still trying to take in all of Harry's story.  
"Right?" Harry agreed glumly.    
"Well," Hermione said slowly from her place by the door. "It _does_ make sense."   
The two men looked at her in bewilderment.    
"Oh, come on. It does! They know they can trust him to keep you safe, because he did for seven years while you were at school! And even when we were off hunting Horcruxes, he was always watching out, remember? The sword, and the patronus? And no one but Dumbledore would've been able to even guess what he was really up to. That must weigh heavily with the Ministry. Along with all that he did outside of that for our side as well."   
"But he hates me! They could've found someone else as equally able to protect me, like Shacklebolt or one of the other teachers," Harry tried to reason with her.    
"Oh, please, Harry, Shacklebolt is the Minister. He doesn't have time to watch after you as well. And I think Snape hating you only cemented him as their choice. I mean, he won't baby you, or spoil you, or let you do reckless things just because you're _'the Golden Boy'._ He'll be realistic; and in looking out for himself and his vow, he is more effectively looking out for you than anyone else would be able to. You have to see it," she said, exasperated.    
Harry looked to Ron, who grimaced. "She is always right, mate."   
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I guess. But I don't have to like it."   
"I don't think anyone would," she said consolingly.    
"Anyway, enough about that. I already have to live it. I don't want to talk about it, too. What have you two been up to?"   
Hermione smiled slowly and moved to stand behind Ron, placing a hand softly on his shoulder.    
"We're getting married," she said, looking fondly down at the now blushing red-head.    
"Really?" Harry asked, ecstatic.    
Hermione nodded.    
"That's wonderful!" Harry got up and gave Hermione a hug. He clapped Ron on the back and leaned down "About bloody time, don't ya think?" he murmured into his ear.    
"Oh, shove off," Ron laughed, pushing him hard in the shoulder.  Harry laughed and playfully punched his forearm, glad to finally be in the company of his two best friends.    
"Well now I have a reason _not_ to strangle Snape in his sleep," he chuckled. "I would like to live to see the wedding."   
"See it? You're my best man!" Ron said.    
"Even better," Harry grinned.    
They sat there, talking, reveling in the company of their best friends.  They hadn't really spent much time, just the three of them, since the war. After the press conferences and interviews had ended, they had gone separate ways to cool down, and settle into a life dictated by themselves, and not the war. It was a much needed break from Harry's recent realities to be sitting on his old twin bed in Ron's little bedroom.    
A soft call from downstairs distracted them from their discussion, which had turned to the speculation of what dangerous creatures Hagrid had come to possess since they had last seen him. There was no doubt he had attained at least one.    
"Mum. Dinners ready," Ron said.    
The trio stood and made their way downstairs, laughing at their speculation of Snape's reaction to a family dinner at the Burrow.   

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  

"I told you. No." Snape said for the fifth time.    
"And I told you I'm going anyway, regardless if I have your permission," Harry said condescendingly. "I'm an adult now, legally, and I'm not your student. I'll do what I want, when I want to."   
"You're right. You're not my student. You are my bond mate, whether we like it or not, and I can guarantee you I do not," Snape growled. "But we are not going. Not only would I be surrounded by insufferable people, but I would be your date. Meaning seen publicly. With you, no less."   
"Everyone attending will be friends or family. They'll know the situation. It's not a big deal, so you can stop being melodramatic."   
 "Fine," he paused, and Harry held his breath. Had he really done it again? Gotten the man to let him get his way? "You _do_ remember what happened at the last wedding you went to, don't you? Or is your head too thick even for that? Besides, I've let you run around enough; I took a vow, Potter, and I'm not taking a risk on both of our lives for a bloody wedding. We are not going."    
" _We_ may not be. But I am. I'm the best man, for Merlin's sake! It's my best mate, there is no way in hell you're keeping me holed up here," he said, casting a disdainful glance at the parlor.    
Snape scoffed. "The subject is not open to discussion."   
"Goddamnit, Snape! I am an adult!" Harry howled as he stomped his foot in anger.    
Snape simply raised a thin eyebrow, looking down to the floor where Harry had unearthed a plume of dust. "You were saying?"   
Harry threw his hands in the air and marched over to the front door.  Pulling it open with an almost violent force, he stomped out and down the street, not caring that it was pitch black, or that the howling wind chilled him immediately to his very core.    
He heard Snape's angry muttering and the slamming of the front door as he followed, in what Harry could only guess was a rather reluctant manner.    
"Potter," the menacing growl came from behind him. "What do you think you are doing now?"   
"Leaving. I can't stand another minute in that house; another minute with _you_!" he fumed.    
"And where do you think you're going  at one o'clock in the morning?"   
"Anywhere! It doesn't matter, as long as it's not here."   
Snape caught up to him then and grabbed his arm, whirling him around to face him. Harry childishly turned his head away. They stood, locked in a silent argument for several seconds before Harry finally looked up, glaring at Snape. He looked pointedly at the hand still grasping his forearm, and Snape simply tightened his grip in response.    
"You will be, at the very least, civil about this, Potter."   
"I could say the same to you!"   
"I am not the one storming out the door in the middle of the night. I have regards for the implications and consequences of my actions, and I have enough intelligence to realize when it is necessary to suck it up and accept my responsibilities. And as long as you live under my roof, under my supervision, I will hold you to the same," he lectured.    
"I am not a pet someone has asked you to watch for the weekend," Harry said, exasperated.    
"You act little better."   
Harry glanced up at the sky as it started to rain.    
"Come on, I'll make a pot of tea," Severus' voice sounded strained with the effort of being courteous. He didn't very well want to lose track of the boy, it would bode very ill for himself.  He relinquished his grip on Harry and walked back up the street, ducking his head against the chill of the falling rain. He paused, and turned around, finding Harry standing arms crossed in exactly the same spot.    
Growling, he raised an eyebrow at the boy.    
"The wedding," he said.    
"Mr. Potter, this is no place for a discussion," Snape answered, deciding he wanted the boy to comply more than he wanted to shoot his request down outright.    
"I'm not going back until you let me go," he said, green eyes hard.    
Snape marched over to him, wincing at the wet squelch of his shoes.    
"You so much as start an _ounce_ of trouble at this wedding, Potter..." he threatened, voice low.    
"It's my best friends! I wouldn't!" he said, offended.    
"For me," Snape amended, effectively silencing him. He grabbed his forearm once more and towed him back down the street and up the stairs, only releasing him after the door had been slammed shut behind them.     
"Insolent little brat," Snape mumbled under his breath as he marched away, discarding his wet outer robe and shaking the glistening drops from his hair.     
Harry cast a drying charm over himself as he waited for the bathroom. He would have to ask Hermione over to cast a few expansion charms on the house. He'd need a bedroom and his own bath if he was really expected to live here in any sort of comfort, not taking into account he had to put up with Snape all day.   
He sighed, unable to find it in himself to be happy over his now definite attendance to the wedding, and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. He stood at the counter and sipped at it.    
He supposed he could be nicer to the man. He hadn't ever thought about the situation from his perspective. He expected he hated it more than Harry did, although he struck that thought from his mind almost immediately. Harry probably hated it just as much as Snape did. He decided it could be easier if they were civil, and he couldn't well expect anything more. Shoving the two of them in a room together was dangerous, but forcing their lives together went beyond playing with fire. It was more akin to setting the house ablaze, and keeping a single garden hose nearby to keep the flames at bay. He looked into the bottom of his now empty cup, remembering the dark future at the bottom of a tea cup in his third year. He chuckled once, throaty and low, at his own misconceptions about Padfoot. What would he say, if he could see Harry now? Granted, he might well be under Sirius' care were he still alive.    
He sighed, putting his cup down on the counter and retreating back to the living room. He found the bathroom door ajar, room dark. Glancing once at the light now glowing from underneath the door to the bedroom, he summoned his pajamas and made his way to a hot, relaxing shower. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own blah blah.

He sat idly, watching closely the change in color of his simmering potion. In the first few days of Harry's stay, he had locked himself up for days on end, only surfacing for food, and scarcely at that. But recently, Harry had seemed to come to terms with the arrangement, and it was about bloody time. As much as Snape enjoyed brewing, he would like to indulge in some of his habits around the rest of his house as well.  
He sighed, unable to lie to himself any longer in the solitude of his study. It was just him and his thoughts here, and he was unable to escape them, try as he might. It wasn't the boy and Harry's resentment towards him that kept him away; he had spent years basking in it, drinking it in; he had found it intoxicating. To get back at James after all this time; he would not deny the petty pleasure he derived from his actions, and fully accepted the boys hatred, welcomed it even, for he found he quite disliked him in return.  
What had sent him hiding, if he were to be honest with himself, was not the boy himself, but his parents. Every time he looked at him, green eyes full of hatred and distrust, he would see _her_ eyes boring into his. He was being forced to relive his worst memories, all at the hands of a twenty two year old man. For when he looked at those emerald eyes, he saw the pain and betrayal he had come to cause Lily; looking further at the boy and he discovered James, mocking him, making him into the fool he often felt like.  
He hated to see her eyes, her _beautiful_ eyes wasted on a resemblance so striking to the Potter git.  
And Harry, so much his father, did not help matters. Strutting around expecting everything from the world. It made Snape's stomach churn.  
Nothing about the situation he had been thrown into was desirable. He weighed his options as the potion slowly shifted from clear to a soft blue. He could ignore the boy, favoring his potions and paperwork left to do. He cast this aside, as he was supposed to look out for him he would want to know a bit about him. He decided he would have to interact with him, at least a little, in order to fulfill the vow so firmly placed upon him. He felt shackled in his responsibilities; shoved into a cage with the boy, key forcibly removed and pocketed by none other than the Minister himself.  
He cast a stasis spell on his brewing potion and strode into the kitchen. Looking around, he found no trace of the boy. Sighing in relief, he continued on to find something suitable for lunch. A soft cough stilled his movements and he straightened, tense, waiting.  
"I was thinking," Harry started hesitantly.  
"A dangerous pastime, indeed." Severus replied, letting the Potter boy know he was, at the very least, listening.  
"I was wondering if, maybe, Hermione could come over for a bit this week," he completed in a rush of words.  
Severus turned around and studied the man before him. He was fidgeting with his hands, nervous, and his green eyes shone with something akin to hope and anxiety.  
 Snape deliberated. What was the worst that could happen? He supposed it was only a matter of time before the brat asked him to open his door to the annoying little friends he'd made. And it would be better than having to go out to another insufferable family event. Hermione was even tolerable, unlike the Weasley boy.  
"Just Hermione?" he lifted an eyebrow, the three seemed to be a package deal.  
Harry nodded once.  
"To what end?" Snape asked.  
"Well, you see, that's the other thing. I wanted to see if we could...renovate." He squirmed uncomfortably.  
"Renovate?"  
"Er...yeah. I was thinking it'd be nice to have my own place in the house," he said meekly. "And I would be out of the way," he added, trying to bribe the ex Potions Master.  
Snape mulled it over, biting the inside of his cheek. He did have a point. He was annoyingly present in the living room.  
He appraised the boy once more, standing there in his muggle tee shirt and jeans. He noticed, for the first time, that his eyes were not, in fact, exactly Lily's. Where hers had been light and carefree, Harry's were two shades darker; a fiery, deep emerald that shone with the strength of the magic he so humbly possessed.  
"And where are you planning on adding these rooms?" He couldn't, after all, make it easy on the boy. This was his house, he couldn't have the two annihilating his private property.  
"I was thinking off the back," Harry started enthusiastically. "Off the living room, the door would be by the bookcase on the far wall..." he trailed off, looking again up to the older man.  
Severus sighed. Try as he might, he could find no justifiable reason not to let him proceed. And after all, he would benefit from the new arrangement as well.  
"I trust Hermione can cast an undetectable expansion charm? We can't have the neighbors noticing a whole new room constructed over night."  
"Of course. Hermione can do almost anything," he answered.  
Rolling his eyes at the last comment, he finally gave in. "I do not see a problem with your plan. Have her over tomorrow, if you can; we have plans this weekend." He turned back to his search for a meal.  
"Thanks," Harry said politely. "Er...sir?"  
"Yes, Potter?" he snarled, now thoroughly fed up with the interruption. He was a man of little patience.  
"Sorry, I just...what plans do we have this weekend?"  
"I need potions ingredients," he replied without turning around. "And if we must be seen at this wedding together, I will not have you looking like some vagabond traveller just in off the boat. We will get you new dress robes."  
"I have perfectly fine dress robes!" he argued, defensive.  
"That may well be, but it is proper that when you attend something as a _couple_ you are expected to correspond. Social expectations do not take into account circumstance. You need new dress robes as I will not tailor mine to yours," he said dismissively.  
Harry huffed once and left the room. Severus smirked as he pulled out the necessary ingredients for his lunch and set about making his meal.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sitting at the desk in his bedroom, he heard the soft voices issuing from the other room, signaling Hermione's arrival. He put down his quill and stood up, stretching. As he walked over to the door, a soft knock halted him in his progress. Puzzled, he opened the door to reveal Harry standing in his doorway, Hermione hovering awkwardly behind.  
"Can I help you?" he drawled, sounding bored.  
"I just thought you might like to...oversee," Harry said.  
Snape rose an eyebrow, crossing his arms. He appraised the boy. He had not once, in the six years he had known him, been civil towards the man, let alone courteous.  
Snape _hmphed_ once and walked into the room. He nodded a greeting at Hermione before turning around and facing Potter again.  
"When were you planning on starting?" he asked, not wanting to waste his time standing around.  
Harry looked quickly to Hermione. "Now?" he asked.  
"Sure, nows fine," she answered, sounding nervous. Snape smirked to himself. At least he hadn't lost all of his ability to intimidate.  
"Right. Well. I'll watch from in here. I trust you won't blow up the house?" he asked condescendingly, turning toward Hermione. She shook her head vigorously and looked to Harry as if in a silent plea for help. The two scuttled off to the corner to work while Snape sat in his dark wing-back. He summoned the morning paper and settled in to read, glancing every so often over at the pair.  
He was intensely focused on one particular article, on the Regulation and Safe Production of Explosive Potions Ingredients, when a fit of laughter disturbed him. Grumbling slightly, he looked over to the side of the room. He was surprised to find a door had appeared where none had been before. Had that much time passed already?  
Harry and Hermione were laughing over a joke unknown to him, and he found it extremely annoying. His eyes were drawn to Harry; head thrown back in laughter, he looked as he did when attending Hogwarts his first three years. Carefree and young, _happy_.  Snape had not seen him look so relaxed in seven years. He wrinkled his nose and leveled his best glare at the young man. Harry turned, still laughing, and smiled at him. They locked eyes and Harry's smile softened briefly before he turned, following the Granger girl into the new bedroom.  
Snape furrowed his brow and returned to his paper, casting from his mind the image of a lively, youthful Harry Potter and whatever unwanted thought had caused his change in attitude.    
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It's done!" the triumphant yell broke through the relative silence of the house. Snape looked up, mildly surprised, and fully irritated.    
"Impossible," he called back.  
"Don't doubt before you see," Harry scolded, unable to be too angry at the man; he was having too good a day with Hermione.    
Snape sauntered over to the addition and leaned on the doorframe. He couldn't help but be slightly impressed. The spellwork was textbook, _perfect_. Maybe Potter's faith in the girl's abilities was well placed after all. He looked around the room and caught Harry's eyes trained on him, holding a question.  
He nodded once and turned to leave, but not before he noticed a shy smile creep upon the boy's features. He shook his head; honestly, he got excited over the smallest things. It was simply a room. He returned to his bedroom to finish his paperwork, glancing only once at the now empty couch. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling. I'm just having some fun [;

"Just put it on, Potter," Snape growled, patience slipping farther from his feeble grasp every second.  
"What's wrong with these?" Harry said stubbornly, turning again to look in the mirror behind him.    
"What isn't wrong with them? They make you look like you an absolute cow, let alone the way the color clashes terribly with your skin," Snape sneered, flicking a finger at the slight ruffled collar. "You are _not_ picking out the next pair."  
Harry glared at him as the owner of the little shop started to tug at the garment. Snape rolled his eyes and stood up, marching over to the rack of high end dress robes. Rifling through, he quickly found two suitable outer cloaks and four undershirts that would match his own nicely.  
"Put these on," he said, throwing them at the boy and taking his seat again.  
"Stupid slimy git of a..." Harry mumbled under his breath as he handed the items over to the distressed looking proprietor.  
Snape arched an eyebrow, which stifled the comments immediately. He looked at his feet while Harry changed his shirt, thankful that they had at least found an acceptable pair of black pants already. One down, at least.  
"No. No way in hell. I am _not_ wearing this."  
Snape looked up, and had to stifle a small, uncharacteristic chuckle. The boy looked completely ridiculous. The robes were designed for someone with a stockier build, not made for the subtle muscles of the young Seeker. The shoulders hung too far down his arm, and the collar and sleeves fell at least two inches below where acceptable.  No amount of altering would even begin to help.  
"You will wear what I tell you to wear," Snape drawled.  
"You're not my mother; can't we at least compromise?" Harry asked, exasperated, looking at the man with disdain.  
"Put on the other," he snapped.  
 As appealing as the idea of antagonizing the boy was, more than anything Severus desired to be at home, where Harry would undoubtedly lock himself in his room.  
"I could live with these," Harry said, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.  
As Severus lifted his gaze, he almost didn't recognize the figure standing in front of him.  
The sleek black cloak fit him snugly, but it was not too tight, and accentuated his slim figure as if tailored personally to him. The shirt underneath looked similar to a muggle dress shirt, but the collar was slightly less angular. The light jade color brought out the emerald in his eyes and the style matched Severus' own pair nicely.  
As Severus' eyes raked over him, scrutinizing, Harry bit his bottom lip. Walking closer, arms crossed, Snape appraised him. He pursed his lips. "Turn around," he ordered.  
Harry turned his back to the man, flinching as Snape patted down his shoulders, and fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve.  
He turned toward the wizard helping them. "We'll take these," he said, eliciting a look of immense relief from the man. "You know where to send them," he said shortly.  
 Turning on his heel, he strode from the room, black robes billowing behind him in a very Snape-like manner.  
Harry rolled his eyes and followed reluctantly behind. Snape walked so fast down the narrow cobblestone street that Harry had to jog to keep up.  
"Sir...where are we going?"  
"I will not be seen with you in those ragged hand-me-down clothes."  
"Not like we leave that bloody house, anyway," he mumbled angrily.  
"Maybe we would if you weren't such an embarrassment to be with," Snape spat darkly. The words were harsher than he had intended, but he cast this aside.  
"I haven't done anything to you!" Potter wailed.  
Snape stopped, breathing heavily. "Has it occurred to you that were it completely my way, we would not be here in the first place? This is as much for your benefit as it is mine, unfortunately," he said, spinning round.  
Harry huffed, "I still don't see why my clothes make a difference," he argued.  
Snape sighed, "You are an adult now, Potter, or had that escaped your notice? You might as well look like one. Now, we can do this now, or prolong the torture for another day."  
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Snape heard the crash from his bedroom. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, he sighed.  
He entered the living room slowly, trying to fully take in the sight before him. Potter was doubled over next to the low-standing coffee table in a fit of violent sounding coughs, one hand placed firmly on the table to steady himself. A plume of dark purple smoke enshrouded his bottom half, and an acrid stench slowly crept across the room towards Severus. It smelled of acid, plastic, and burning fabric and skin.    
On the floor near Potter's feet were the shattered remains of a small potion vial, and the singed carpet was still emitting the foul purple smoke. He noticed the bottom of one of the boys pant legs was also burnt and smoking slightly, and he could see the raw, exposed flesh underneath.  
"Potter!" he barked. "What happened?"  
Harry looked up. He tried three times to form words around his coughing, but was unable to get more than a few guttural syllables out before his body was wracked with a new wave.  
"Never mind, I can obviously see you are as unobservant as ever."  
Earlier in the day, Snape had laid out many precious potions on the small table in order to take stock. Since Harry kept, for the most part, to his room, he found this to be completely safe. How foolish those notions had been.  
He took a cursory glance at the remaining potions and swore. Of course, the insolent brat had to have knocked over the most valuable, time-consuming one.  
Growling, Severus pulled his wand out and with a quick flick of his wrist, the glass and fuming remains of the potion were banished. Another quick wave, and the smoke was blown away and dissipated.  
"I...I'm sorry...sir," Harry managed to choke out as he got his coughs under control.  
"Sorry doesn't replace my potion, Potter," Snape bit out harshly.  
"Yes, well, given the choice, I doubt you'd want me responsible for that, either," Harry smiled ruefully, in spite of himself.  
Snape cringed inwardly at the thought of leaving Potter to brew that particular potion.  
Before he could round on him again, however, the boy sank to the couch, wincing. He brought his still slightly smoking foot up for closer inspection. He heard the sharp intake of breath as he gently prodded the burnt skin.  
Snape leaned over him, assessing the damage the boy had inflicted. The skin was burned badly, and open to all sorts of infection. Snape summoned a tiny bottle and uncorked it. Kneeling in front of Harry, he poured the Essence of Murtlap evenly over the wound. Re-corking the bottle he withdrew his wand, and created a protective charm over the open skin.  
"It should heal within the week," he said briskly as he stood up.  
"Thanks," Harry said awkwardly to Snape's retreating back. "I am sorry," he said again.  
Snape paused, his vindictive side taking over. "I should have known better. It's like having a toddler around the house. I was careless, I should know by now to protect anything I want to keep in my possession," he said.  
"It wasn't on purpose!" Harry fumed.  
Snape turned around. The boy was flushed with indignation. Perhaps he was a bit harsher on the boy than the situation warranted, but than again, Snape was a single-minded man. It mattered not the circumstance, as long as the final outcome was the same. And this particular incident ended in more work for him.  
Add his little patience and tendency to react to most things with anger, and the boy had it coming to him.  
At least that's what Snape told himself.  
He got closer to the boy. "It matters not, Potter. The fact is that it is ruined, spoiled, and I still have to make a new one," he said in low tones, trying to reign in his anger.  
"You're a _potions master_ , it should be easy enough," Harry sounded exasperated.  
Snape growled, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. His reply, however, was cut off in his throat by the boys reaction.  
When he had lifted his arms, Harry had visibly flinched, leaning away from him.  
Snape paused, bringing his arms down slowly and backing away. Was he really that afraid of him that he would think Severus might strike him? As much as he ridiculed and criticized him, he had never touched the boy before, he had given him no reason to cower before him.  
Another though struck him. What if it wasn't fear of Snape, but of harm at the hand of adults in general? This seemed more plausible, but still highly unlikely. The _Golden Boy_ had been mollycoddled his whole life.    
Or had he?  
"Potter, did your Uncle...did they..." he could not find the right words to ask the boy. The question itself seemed ludicrous, and Snape had never talked to Harry about anything besides schoolwork and his varying ways of messing things up; he had never had a reason, or desire, to.    
"Did they what?" he asked venomously, glaring up at Snape, daring him to ask what was on his mind.  
Snape narrowed his eyes. "Nevermind," he muttered, walking away.  
He heard the door to Harry's room shut as he pulled out the ingredients to start over on his potion.  
Had he been wrong, all this time? Had Harry Potter not actually been revered in his home, but beaten? Looked on as a burden?  
Snape thought this to be far-fetched. He had seen the boy's arrogance first hand. That doesn't come from nothing. But than why did all the other teachers rave over him as a fabulous young man? Dumbledore had taken him in as a son, much to Severus' own discontent and, though he would never admit it even to himself, jealousy.  
He had always tuned the old man out when he started in about Potter. He found the praise and adoration in his voice to be sickening. But had he listened, would he have seen something different in Harry?  
He shook his head, expelling that line of thought from his mind. It did not change the fact that he was an insufferable prat.  
Yet as he brewed, a memory flashed before his eyes.  
 _A small boy with round, obsidian eyes filled with fear cowered in the corner, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.  
'Please, father. I didn't mean to...'  
The looming figure of Tobias Snape obscured the hunched boy, but the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh could not be ignored. _   
He shuddered.  
No, Harry had surely not been abused.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
"Grab your cloak," Severus ordered as he donned his own black outer cloak.  
"What?" Harry said, flustered by this sudden change of plans.  
He stood, fumbling with the cloak Snape threw at him. "Where are we going?"  
"Hogwarts," Severus replied briskly.  
"Hogwarts?" Harry was more than surprised. "But it's so late."  
Snape ignored him and set about gathering the items he would need. He paused at the door and looked back.  
"Oh, honestly," he sighed, impatient. Harry had one arm half-through one sleeve and was struggling to find the other, flailing about as if he had never put on a garment for himself.    
Setting down his briefcase, Snape took the other sleeve and held it out for Potter to slip his arm into.  
He roughly pulled the collar up and pat it down so it would lay flat. Harry swatted at his less-than-gentle touch.    
Picking his bag back up, he followed his charge out the door and set up extra security wards.  
"Take my arm," he said passively.  
Harry grumbled a bit, but otherwise complied, stepping closer to Severus than they had ever been. Snape shifted slightly, not use to contact of any sort.  
He turned quickly and disapparated.  
They landed with a muffled _thump_ just outside the grounds to the castle. Snape grabbed Potter hard under the elbow to stop him from stumbling. He turned to eye the man, who nodded once. Releasing him, he strode off toward the school.  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I, again, do not own any of these lovely characters or places. They belong to Jo Rowling, bless her.

Harry marveled over the castle as they walked in silence. He had not returned since his seventh year, choosing to meet Neville, Hermione and Hagrid outside of their classrooms.   
There were a few lights shining in windows, but the castle was mostly dark, as it was the summer holiday and most of the teachers had long since returned home.   
Harry guessed that apart from Trelawney, McGonagall, Professor Binns and Hagrid there were maybe three other teachers present.   
"Sir, why are we here?" Harry asked, remembering he had never gotten a straight answer.   
" _I_ am here on business. Potions, meetings; things that are entirely not your business. _You_ are here simply because we, unfortunately, cannot be separated."   
Harry nodded once, too ensconced in the feeling returning to the school unearthed that he let the man's sarcasm and never yielding cynicism go without a word.   
They walked through the gates and into the main corridor. Being back filled Harry with a strange mix of emotions. First and foremost, he felt a sense of belonging he had not felt anywhere else, not even at the Burrow. Underneath that, however, he felt a blossom of pride and devotion that barely covered his anxiety and pain at the last memories he held of the castle.   
"Actually," Snape stopped, a thought just occurring to him. "We do not need to be so close for this particular outing. As long as you do not stray beyond school grounds for once in your life, you will be perfectly safe."  
Harry did not miss the slight raise in his tone of voice; Snape was surely happy to be rid of him.  
Harry simply nodded, quite honestly he felt neither one way or the other about being rid of the man. He was able to amply get away at the house now, and that simple separation had calmed their tempers. While they by no means got along, it was, at the very least, tolerable to be in each others company. For short periods of time, anyway.     
He watched Snape retreat in a flurry of robes towards the Grand Staircase.   
He sighed, and made his way slowly towards the double doors of the Great Hall.  
Hesitantly, he walked into the room. A memory flashed before his eyes before he could stop it.   
_He looked around at the demolished Hall he had all but grown up in.  
The bodies of friends, family and loved ones were scattered unceremoniously through the rubble.   
He couldn't keep track of the friends he saw, eyes glazed, dead.  
Dead for him, for his cause. Dead so that Harry could live.   
His stomach churned as he turned on the spot and fled, numb. _  
He shook the memory away and took a deep breath, looking around at the place. If he didn't know better, he could've sworn the Battle of Hogwarts was nothing more than a terrifyingly horrible dream. He wandered aimlessly, trailing a single finger along the table he sat at on so many occasions.   
He glanced up at the Head Table and felt a stab of pain as he looked at the great high back chair that used to be Dumbledore's.   
He wished he could go up and talk to his portrait, however McGonagall was probably too busy for him to intrude. He would have to make do with the rare chat the two shared whenever Harry pulled out his very first Famous Witches and Wizards card.   
He smiled wistfully at the memory that resurfaced, of his first trip on the Hogwarts Express.   
He couldn't decide if life was easier than, or now.   
He meandered his way through arched passageways and shortcuts, not paying much attention to where he was going, but following his feet.   
He was overcome by memories, and a sense of great, shuddering loss. He didn't realize how much he had loved and missed these halls. He had always assumed he wanted to be rid of them. This is where it had all happened, the whole bloody war. He thought returning would plague him with unwanted sorrow; but instead he found the boyish wonder and happiness he had always felt.   
He looked up then, finding himself in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. She peered at him fondly from her perch.   
"Ah, Mr. Potter. Haven't we grown up? I never did get to thank you," she said softly.   
Harry smiled half-heartedly.   
"I suppose you can't let me in?"   
She thought it over for a second. "Do you remember the password from first term in your third year?"  
"Uhh...sure. It was Fortuna Major," he shrugged.   
She smiled warmly down at him and her frame swung forward on it's hinges, allowing him inside Gryffindor Tower.   
"Thanks," he muttered as he climbed through the portrait hole.   
He laughed once. The common room hadn't changed at all. He was bombarded by fresh memories, but pushed them to the side and sighed, running a hand through his hair.   
He walked slowly toward the staircase, looking around. He couldn't remember ever seeing the room this _empty_.    
He ascended the stairs and entered his old dormitory, sitting down hesitantly on the edge of his old bed. He felt small again, a child. No longer did he feel the stress and responsibility that came with his life. He smiled, a true smile, one he knew had not graced his features in years.   
He would start to visit, he decided.   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
"Severus! Was I expecting you?"   
"I shouldn't think so. My apologies for interrupting, Minerva, but may I speak with you and Albus?" Snape requested, polite yet brisk.   
The Headmistress looked slightly taken aback. "I don't see why that should be a problem. Albus?" she asked, scooting her chair to the side in order to look at the portrait directly behind her desk.   
"Always a pleasure," the old man smiled warmly at Snape.   
Severus felt a pang of guilt and pain as he looked at the figure, the closest thing he had ever come to having a father; the only man who had tried to make the effort.   
"Yes, well," he began, clearing his throat. "I just have one question, really."   
"Fire away, my boy!" Dumbledore said, attentive.    
"It's about Harry," he started.   
"Hopefully you haven't been being too hard on the boy, Severus," McGonagall said, looking him over.   
Severus snorted. "Maybe you should be telling him to leave _me_ alone, Minerva. However, we seem to have achieved at least some semblance of peace in our day-to-day lives," he said. "Mainly due to the fact that we try to steer clear of each other as much as possible," he clarified at the raise of both sets of eyebrows.   
"Anyway, the reason for my visit," he exhaled heavily, wondering where to begin. "I was wondering what we knew about Potter's living situation with his family."   
"The Dursleys?" Dumbledore inquired, surprised.   
Snape nodded once, waiting.   
"Petunia and Vernon took care of him for seventeen years, he was fed and clothed. Harry never said anything on it," Dumbledore answered, still seemingly confused. "What does this matter now?"   
"I assume you are aware of his current living situation," came the familiar sneer, so seldom aimed at the old man.   
"My idea, actually," he said, eyes twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. "You surely don't believe anyone else to have suggested it? Or anyone to listen, had they?" he laughed.   
Severus grumbled, before continuing. "Yes, well. That is a discussion for another day," he said, tone full of implications. "Anyway, I was wondering if his uncle...did his uncle ever...touch him?"  
"Severus!" Minerva lifted a hand to her throat. "What kind of assumption is that?"   
"No no no, not like that," he said, rolling his eyes. "Did they hit him?"  
"Harry had a rough childhood," Dumbledore said softly.    
"And you kept him there? When there were numerous Order members ready and willing to take up the role?"  
"The wards," Minerva said quietly.   
"Precisely," Dumbledore agreed. "The blood wards provided such protection, that the risks of moving him into another's care far outweighed the benefits. Should it have progressed severely, you can be certain I would have personally intervened."   
Snape sat down. So, Potter had been abused, at least to some degree. That explained his reaction to Severus' own anger. He rubbed a tired hand over his face.   
He understood the Headmaster's logic of course, and it was common knowledge of the love he held for the boy. But the abused child within him couldn't help but feel for him. He couldn't help but suspect that this was exactly why Dumbledore had suggested him to take Potter in.  
He shook his head, as if to clear it.   
"Severus, my boy, why is this important now?"   
He looked at the old Headmaster, and sighed.   
"I should know his past, shouldn't I? So I know what I'm dealing with. Big events of his childhood, such as this, are crucial in my knowing what to expect from him, his behaviors; I, unfortunately, need to obtain some understanding of the boy in order to fulfill my vow," he explained.   
"Ah, so it is for the vow," Albus said quietly, looking at Minerva, a twinkle in his eye again.   
"Of course. What else would it be?" Severus snapped.   
"What else indeed?" Dumbledore mused.   
"Is that all, Severus? I don't mean to be rude, but I have a meeting in a few moments, the muggle Prime Minister, you see," Minerva started.   
"Yes, of course, I need to see Poppy as well, and than find the little sod and return home. Sorry to have arrived unannounced," he said stiffly.   
Minerva waved off his apology and started to collect papers scattered across her desk.   
"Minerva, Albus," Severus nodded his goodbye to each in turn and strode to the door.   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Severus made his way outside, having stopped to refill the stock in the Hospital Wing and have a quick word with Poppy.   
"Now where could he have gone?" he mumbled, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself against the chill autumn wind. He had already checked the kitchens, Gryffindor Tower, and the Great Hall, all to no avail.   
He almost regretted giving the boy free reign, but he couldn't stand the thought of having him in McGonagall's  office for the discussion that had taken place.   
He walked the path from the school, looking to Hagrid's hut. The windows were dark, and no smoke came from the chimney.   
He glanced once at the Quidditch pitch, thinking he might have taken to the air for a night ride on one of the school's brooms. However, there was no movement in that direction, either.   
Grumbling under his breath, he strode quickly back towards the castle. A movement to the left caught his eye, and he paused, trying to discern the dark silhouette.  
Harry was sitting, knees to chest, at the edge of the lake. He looked small, shrunken in upon himself. Severus stood watching him for a moment, but the boy didn't move an inch.   
He approached him slowly, and stood behind him, still clutching his cloak tightly to his torso.   
"Time to go already?" Harry said, voice distant, as if he were focused on other things.   
"My business here is through, yes," Snape answered, voice quiet.   
He moved to stand beside the boy, looking out over the lake himself. He had memories here too, after all.   
"Don't look, Professor, the giant squid is skinny dipping," he could hear playing in Harry's voice.   
"I think we are beyond such formality, Pot- Harry," he corrected himself softly, realizing his contradiction.   
"Than what am I to call you instead, sir?" he could tell Harry was as unsure about this as he was.   
"Severus, I presume. As I am no longer your teacher but your...roommate."   
"Well, Severus, let's call an ace an ace, shall we?" Harry said, standing up and turning towards him. "We're bond mates now, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health," he mocked, playfully throwing the back of his palm against his forehead and pretending to swoon.   
The sides of Snape's lips twitched despite himself, fighting a smile.    
"Let's go, before you revert completely to the insufferable schoolboy you were," Snape sneered, trying to regain his usual composure.   
"Aw, admit it, Snape, you like me now," Harry laughed lightly, nudging the older man with his shoulder without thinking.   
Severus rolled his eyes and took off toward the apparition point.   
Whether he liked it or not, he had stumbled upon a newfound respect and sense of camaraderie for the boy, and their all but shared childhoods. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing!

"Are you quite finished?" Snape drawled from the living room.    
Harry rolled his eyes at his reflection and finished tying his bow tie. He bared his teeth and slid his tongue over their smooth surface, smiling at himself in the mirror.    
He ran a last hand through his hair in a hopeless attempt to smooth it down. He stepped back, fixing his outer robe, and appraised himself.    
He shrugged once and walked out of his room.  
Severus was seated on the couch; leaning back, legs crossed, he was flipping casually through the latest edition of _Potions Monthly_.  
"Can't have changed that much since last month," Harry stated as he slipped into his shoes.  
"You'd be surprised, Potter," Snape said lazily, earmarking an article and setting the booklet on the coffee table.  
Harry just grinned at him.  
Severus rolled his eyes and stood; the friendship that had suddenly bloomed between the two was both unexpected and surprising. Harry had accepted it in stride, taking Snape in like he did everyone else he seemed to accumulate.    
Many sleepless nights were spent pondering about the spark between them, this new friendship. How could he have let this happen? To become civil, if not friendly, with a Potter? It was preposterous, unthinkable. And yet, here he was, a Snape, denying the fact that he didn't mind the company that came with the rascal.  
"You ready?"  
"Am _I_ ready? Potter, I have been sitting here, waiting, for-" he cut off at the smile playing along the edges of Harry's lips. "Yes. I am ready," he said stonily, not a fan of the boys games.  
"You're crooked," he sighed, reaching out and playing with the bow tie at Harry's neck until it laid just so.  
"Thanks," Harry muttered as he walked away, searching for his outer cloak.    
Severus watched silently with a raised eyebrow as Harry took the cloak that was draped over the back of the couch, and roughly shoved an arm through the sleeve. He gave pause when his arm did not, in fact, pop out the opposite opening, but got lost somewhere in between. He looked down in confusion, brow furrowing.  
"You may want to put on your own cloak, Mr. Potter," Snape smirked as he glided over and in one smooth motion, took his cloak from Harry and donned it, looking down his nose at the boy.  
Harry blushed lightly, a faint red tinge coloring his cheeks.  
He looked Snape over, surprised. He looked... _good_. The dress robes he wore were jet black, with subdued silver stitching and toggles. They were obviously tailored personally to his slim waist and long legs, and the effect was not lost on Harry.  
The neck of the shirt underneath dipped just low enough to expose a length of pale neck and provided a slight view of the elusive collar bone underneath.  
His hair, usually lank and greasy, was held back by a deep emerald piece of ribbon at the nape of his neck, a single strand falling loose by his ear.   
Instead of an ugly old bat, he had transformed to something more akin to an owl, dashing and elegant. Harry shook himself.  
"Did I pass?" Snape drawled, smirking again.  
Harry blushed further. Not only had he been checking the older man out, but he had been caught doing it! He nodded furiously and turned, resuming his search.  
"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Accio cloak!"  
Harry turned around, silently berating himself for not thinking of that first. He hated the condescending smirk now aimed at him for the third time in less than ten minutes.  
Snape silently held his cloak out to him, and without a word, Harry took it and walked out the door.    
"Meet you there," he called over his shoulder, before the tell tale crack of apparition.  
Gloating even after the departure of the boy, Severus silently followed, re-warding the house before making his way to the Burrow.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry landed, stumbling slightly and looking around. He smiled wide as he took in the view that greeted him.  
Everything was decorated in Gryffindor colors as far as he could see. A huge white tent had golden fringe hanging to the ground, interspersed with crimson beads every few strands.  
The chairs underneath were embroidered in a rich dark red, and the arrangements of wild flowers floating above the guests heads were held together by a golden ribbon.  
It was still morning, and the light glow of the sun fell gracefully onto the decorations.  
His smile faltered as the scene suddenly twisted before his eyes.  
 _A patronus; a silvery warning. 'The Ministry has fallen. They are coming.' It had all begun here. The beginning of the end. His heart raced, he couldn't breathe. He had to get out, they were coming; he had to get out..._  
He shook his head, clearing away the dark memory.  
Harry dusted his robe, pulled it straight and fixed his glasses. He looked around at the people milling about, seeing many faces he recognized.  
A _crack_ sounded beside him, and he turned in time to see Snape take in his surroundings. He couldn't help but smile at the disgusted downturn of his lips and grumbling issuing from the man.  
"I should've known," he said to the ground as he straightened his long cloak. He glanced over at Harry.  
"You're crooked again," he muttered, turning Harry towards him and pulling him closer by the hem of his sleeve. As he fiddled with his bow tie, Harry couldn't help but notice the light scent of lilac on the man, or the way the sun shone delicately on his dark hair.  
He had never, in his memory, been this close to Snape. His heart beat quickened nervously and he licked his lips, trying to hold still while the man fussed at his neck.  
"Oi! Harry!"  
He turned at the sound and Snape grumbled something that sounded like 'it's a lost cause, isn't it?' as he straightened.  
"George!" Harry was given a quick pat on the back.  "How are you?"  
"Great! And you?" He lowered his voice to a mock whisper, "I hear you have to live with Scrooge," he smiled and threw a glance at Snape.  
Harry laughed. "Well, he's certainly no Weasley, but it's not as bad as you might think," he threw a small smile at Severus, who nodded slightly in recognition.  
Severus turned to George. "Mr. Weasley," he greeted, trying to stay polite.  
"Professor," George returned, turning to face him.  
Snape stiffened at the sight of the other side of the twin's head. He still felt guilty for being the cause of the hole found there, his own curse having blasted off the ear that belonged there.  
"Don't sweat it," George said quietly, smiling to prove his point. "I understand. Water under the bridge, right?" He straightened then, and grabbed Harry's arm. "Right, Ron'll need you, then. Just find a seat anywhere, sir," he said, looking over his shoulder at Snape as the pair walked away. "Honestly, I don't understand some of these Muggle traditions Hermione insisted on. A best man? So are all the rest of us second rate? Well, than again it is _The Golden Boy_...." George teased as they walked.  
As they entered the kitchen of the Burrow, Harry was assaulted by noise. House elves were running around, preparing food, and a tousled Molly Weasley was overseeing their progress. She cast a hasty 'hello, dear' in Harry's general direction before bustling off, barking orders as she went.  
"Harry!" A familiar voice called.  
Spinning round, Harry was caught in a fleeting, one-armed hug.  
"Ron! You holdin' up?" Harry asked the red head.  
"You kidding? I've been ready for this since the day I met her,"  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Er...maybe not. But either way, I'm ready," he laughed, light-hearted.  
"Glad to hear it, cause knowing Hermione, she'd drag you down the aisle anyway," Harry teased.  
"Got that right," Ron rubbed the back of his neck absently, as if just the thought of it physically pained him.  
"So how's Snape? You're obviously not dead so it could be worse, right?"  
"Yeah, could be worse," Harry agreed vaguely. He was not keen on the idea of letting Ron know that they had actually become friends, if that's what they were anyway. Harry shoved the thought aside for later examination.  
"He's not so bad, I mean it's like-"  
He was cut off by the shrill cry of _'groomsmen!'_ heard from the other room.  
Grinning ruefully at each other, Ron and Harry made their way to the cluttered living room.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey, stranger," Harry murmured as he sat next to Severus at one of the many gold clothed tables.  
The ceremony had been short and intimate. Hermione looked beautiful in a soft cream dress, curls tied loosely back with a deep red bow, bouquet matching those hovering above her head.    
Immediately after, the chairs had rearranged themselves around the tables that had appeared and the reception had begun.  
Harry had spotted Snape sitting by himself at a table near the edge of the tent and made his way through the throng of people to join him.  
"And just when I thought I could get a moment of peace," Snape said sarcastically.  
"Oh, cheer up, Severus," Harry moped, sitting down in the chair next to him and tilting it to watch the party.  
Snape grumbled a bit at the use of his first name, but at least now he was allowing it.  
"How long must I stay, Potter?"  
"Harry," he corrected, "Call me Harry."  
Snape glared at him. "Fine, _Harry,_ " he sneered, "When can we leave?"  
"You've got a ways to go," Harry laughed, as a house elf brought him a cold Butterbeer. He winked at the older man over the top of his glass as he took a sip.  
Severus rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more.  
Harry sat with him for a while, watching the others as they danced. Soon after the food had disappeared Hermione and Ron made their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone who came.  
They sat at Harry's table for a few minutes, talking about anything.  
There was a constant stream of company for Harry; he talked to Neville, Hagrid, all of the Weasleys, Seamus and Dean, and even a few of his old professors.  
As the day wound down he settled into watching the couples dance. He smiled at the slightly eccentric dance Luna was sharing with Neville, and almost laughed at the look on  Draco's face as Ginny pulled him toward the dance floor.  
He sighed, wishing for once that he had someone to share his life with other than his friends. As much as he loved them, he couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as he watched them circle gracefully in each others arms.  
He turned to look at Snape as the sun set, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes.  
"What?" Snape asked apprehensively, leaning his head on his hand.  
Harry simply stood up and went to stand in front of the man.  
Snape sat back and eyed him skeptically.  
"What?" he asked again, annoyed.  
"Dance?" Harry offered him his hand.  
"What?" This time his voice was filled with disbelief.  
"Would you dance with me, Severus?"  
"Why?" He could not fathom the idea of dancing with the boy.    
"I want to dance." Harry said simply, shrugging.  
Severus raised an eyebrow, but made no move to accept. Harry was afraid he would say no, but he couldn't tell himself why it would matter either way.  
"This is hardly necessary.  No one here is under the delusion that we actually chose to be together,"  
"Please," Harry said softly.  
Something shifted in Severus' eyes, but it was gone before Harry could tell what it was.  
The older man stood up in one swift, graceful motion and leaned forward.  
"You're crooked, _again_. I will not have my bond mate looking so ragged." He murmured as he leaned closer to Harry.  
 For the second time, Harry found his heart racing, and his breath caught in his throat. His palms were sweaty and tingling, and he was all too aware of the warm body in front of him.  
When Snape was done, he reached out on an impulse and grabbed his hand in his own, towing him towards the dance floor.  
"I don't remember accepting," Severus muttered as he was led towards the moving bodies.  
"Too bad," Harry grinned as he turned to him and dropped his hand.  
They faced each other awkwardly, and the people around them seemed to be holding a collective breath, watching the pair in anticipation.  
Harry looked up into the taller man's face. Severus' expression was unreadable, and a few more strands had come loose around his face, a slight wave to them in the absence of the weight from his usual greasy gel.  
Harry reached up to tuck them  
back behind his ears, and Snape caught his hand as he brought it back down, holding it within his own.    
 He looked down at Harry as he placed his other hand lightly on the small of the boys back and pulled him closer. Harry stepped into him and put his body mere inches from that of Snape's as he placed his free hand on his shoulder.  
As they started swaying gently, the shocked faces of the onlookers gradually returned to their own business.  
"Thank you," Harry said quietly.  
"It's just a dance, Potter. No need to get _sentimental_." Snape said, just as quiet.  
"Harry," he corrected.  
Snape nodded once and tightened his grip.  
Severus looked out over the top of Harry's head after a single disapproving glance towards the shock of messy black hair. His eyes were turbulent, yet unreadable, and they moved together silently for a while.  
Harry chuckled once.  
Snape raised an eyebrow "Yes?"  
"It's just crazy, isn't it?" Harry mused, voice a quiet murmur. "Even with all the chaos my life has been, I never would have imagined myself here, in this situation. Ever,"  
"Am I really that bad to live with?"  
Harry looked up, apology in his eyes at hurting Snape's feelings, but found a light in the onyx eyes he had never seen before. The man was teasing him.  
Harry pouted, and a sly smirk adorned the thin lips in front of him. He couldn't help but grin back and a soft chuckle rumbled through Snape's chest.  
Harry could just feel the vibration and leaned in closer, unthinking. Snape stiffened momentarily, and their dancing slowed, but regained his footing and pulled Harry against him.  
"This is more traditional, yes?" Harry nodded, not sure if he trusted his voice. This was all so new, he barely knew what to think. He didn't even know what was happening, let alone how to react to it.    
"Easier, as well," Snape added.  
"Of course," Harry agreed.  
Snape was simply keeping up appearances, making it easier for himself. After all, it did feel more natural to dance with no distance left between them. Harry wasn't sure what exactly he had expected from Snape that might be different.    
He sighed and laid his head on Snape's chest, closing his eyes. He felt the man flinch, as if to pull away, but he didn't move any farther. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the now faint smell of lilac joined with woodsmoke from the torches on the edge of the tent.    
The song ended, but Harry stayed where he was. Snape dropped his hand and Harry felt his chest expand, as if taking a deep breath to keep himself calm. Harry thought about moving, but decided he didn't care enough; he was strangely content right where he was.  
"Better get the poor dear home, Severus. He must be exhausted," he heard Mrs. Weasley's soft voice somewhere to his right.  
"Yes," Snape agreed, "he must."  
He gently pushed Harry away from him and frowned slightly, eyes focused on Harry's neck. Shaking his head, Severus hooked a finger on his bow tie and untied it, leaving it hanging loose around Harry's neck.  
"Since you can't seem to keep it straight," he sneered.  
Harry grinned ruefully and shrugged.    
He said his goodbyes to everyone and turned to Snape.  
"Ready?"  
"You've no idea," Severus replied and he held out his arm.  
Harry grabbed it and held on tight as Snape turned on the spot and apparated them home; straight into a waiting circle of ex Death Eaters.   


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I attempt to lay claim to no character or place, simply my story. (: Enjoy!

"How cozy," a voice drawled from the shadow of a nearby building. "I almost hate to break it up."   
A figure kicked off from the wall,  walking slowly into the dull light cast from a solitary street lamp, twirling his wand between his fingers.   
Snape stiffened, drawing Harry closer to his side.   
"Dolohov," he greeted stonily, face drawn.   
"Severus," the man smiled, sweeping his arms wide. "No need to be so down, we're all friends here; or, we used to be."  
Harry snorted, and Snape put a hand to his arm, warning him. Harry coughed to cover himself, looking down. The Death Eaters didn't seem to notice the exchange, yet Severus kept his hand just below Harry's elbow.   
"But than again," he went on, "Things change. Oh, how they _change_ ,"   
He looked between Harry and Severus, down to the hand on Harry's arm, and back up his body until they landed on the green eyes. A shiver ran down his spine at the calculating stare.   
"But why, Severus? I don't understand. _Why?_ I can understand working for the old bat, the spying, even the hiding. But what I can't wrap my head around," he said, still walking, "Is why you're with _him_ now?" He jerked his head at Harry, "You always hated the sod, that much was obvious, even after it was discovered you were working to protect him. But now? War's over, friend."   
Harry looked up to Severus. His face was blank, unreadable; the onyx eyes cold and hard. Would he tell them he was still working for Dumbledore? What did it matter;  they obviously already knew of his betrayal.   
"You know my... _lust_ for power," Snape said, raising an eyebrow and glancing dispassionately down at Harry.   
He flinched away from the look on the ex Potions Master's face. Was this true? He certainly hadn't advanced on Harry.   
He furrowed his brow, but Snape gave him no indication as to his intentions.   
Dolohov began laughing. "Yes, that does make sense, doesn't it? I read of your bonding in the Prophet. I couldn't believe it, myself. But you did always chase power. And that young body," he raked his eyes down Harry again, making the hairs stand up on the back of his skin.   
"But certainly, Severus, he does not indulge you?"  
Harry grimaced at the man's words, but no one was looking at him.   
"Whose to stop me from taking what is mine?" Severus snarled, possessively sliding his hand down to Harry's.   
That stopped the Death Eater short, and he glanced again between them, eyes once again taking in the hand gripped tightly around Harry's. Severus gripped him  
harder, digging his nails in as Harry tried to pull away. He roughly shoved Harry halfway behind his own body.   
"Who wouldn't take advantage?" Severus asked, voice low as he raised an eyebrow.   
"Who indeed?" Dolohov mused, stopping in front of them.   
He visibly shook himself. "As nice as this has been, Severus, you know how business is. Greyback expects us...and you," he grinned wickedly before snapping his wand into the air in front of him.   
A spell flew at them, but in one fluid movement Severus had pulled his own wand out and thrown the curse back at him.   
"Behind me Harry! We're surrounded !" Snape instructed, and Harry leapt into action.   
They stood back to back, throwing curse after curse at their attackers.   
"Stupefy!" Harry screamed, stunning a man so hard he flew into a brick wall behind him and sank to the ground, unmoving.   
He felt the bunched muscles working in Severus' back as he moved and twisted, dueling three people at once.   
Snape flinched as a knockback spell hit him, and Harry ground his feet into the ground to hold him up.   
Baring his teeth against a sudden pain in his wand arm, Harry put all his effort into a shield charm around the pair, and turned to face Severus.   
"Grab my hand!" He yelled, holding out his arm while checking to see if his spell would hold.   
"Potter! What are you-"   
"Do it!"  
Snape grasped his hand tightly, and Harry disapparated, breaking his shield as he did so.   
They landed and slumped to the ground, breathing heavily.   
"Where are we?" Snape asked, glancing up at the thick canopy of trees.   
When he didn't get an answer, he turned to Harry. "Potter, where-"   
He was cut short at the sight of the young man splayed out next to him. He was on his back, eyes closed in a grimace of pain, losing consciousness quickly.   
"Harry!" Snape gasped, crawling over to him.   
He was twitching, face screwed up from the pain. His breathing was labored, coming in shallow gasps. He was covered in sweat, and began shaking in the cool night air.  
When he had apparated them here, the shield spell had been dropped, and a single spell had gotten through.   
Snape cursed, recognizing it as his own _'Sectumsempra'_. This had been Dolohov, the only Death Eater able to cast it.   
The deep gash ran from collar bone to hip across his chest, and with shaky hands, Snape shoved off Harry's robes and ripped open his shirt.   
He fought back bile at the sight of the wound, silently berating himself for ever inventing the spell.   
He drew his wand along the cut a number of times and watched as it sealed over with a layer fresh new skin, trying not to think about the scar that would forever adorn the skin of his chest.   
He spelled away the pain, and watched as Harry's face relaxed. He picked him up slowly, trying not to jostle him, and held his head against his chest.    
Five minutes later, a rumpled Molly Weasley opened the door to the Potions Master carrying a limp Harry Potter in his arms, looking grave and worried.   
"Harry," she gasped, taking in his blood soaked torso with big eyes. She looked up to Severus, hand at her mouth. "What happened?"  
"We were attacked," he said shortly. "Can I come in, or must we watch him die right here on the porch step?" he asked harshly.   
"Of course, of course," she moved aside and watched as Severus came in and carefully placed Harry on the couch.   
"Watch him," he ordered.   
Molly moved in front of the couch, conjuring a damp towel to cool him down.   
Snape walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder.   
Molly fretted over Harry, not sure what to do, but afraid to stay idle. He was so _pale_.   
In a matter of moments, Poppy and Minerva had floo'd in, and Madame Pomfrey had set about caring for the boy.   
Molly, feeling utterly useless and in the way, got up and stood by the other two.   
"Severus, what happened?" Minerva asked.   
Molly looked at Snape; his face worn and tired, he looked much older than his years.   
She summoned a cup of tea, which he took silently.   
He took a sip and sighed, rubbing his forehead.   
"We were ambushed," he started, speaking to Minerva, who had conjured a quill to write the official report for the Order. "It was Dolohov - he's working for Greyback - and nine or ten others. They had us surrounded when we apparated, they were waiting. I don't know how they knew where to be. We fought, and Harry threw up a shield spell in order to disapparate, but it dropped when we left. Dolohov got in one last curse," he finished bitterly.    
   
Molly looked queasy; Minerva solemn and determined.   
"We will have to call a meeting. The situation has escalated far worse than we had imagined," Minerva fretted.   
Snape nodded and sank into the armchair behind him.   
"I'll go write Kingsley, than," McGonagall said decisively, feeling the need to _do_ something.   
"I'd better set up the guest room. You certainly can't move the poor dear in that condition," Molly bustled away as Poppy strode over to Severus.  
"Lucky you were with him, Severus. He's lost a lot of blood, but thankfully, it's nothing he can't recover from. I've given him a few blood replenishing potions and a sleeping draught, plus a tonic for the pain. I'm leaving you with a few extra, for when he wakes up."  
Snape nodded.   
"You saved his life, Severus," Poppy said, a gentle hand on his arm.   
"I know," Snape said at once. It came out harsher than he had intended.   
"Yes, well. I had best get back than," she shifted uncomfortably. "Hagrid has brought in flesh eating slugs," she huffed, rolling her eyes.   
Snape smirked, and she cast him a quick smile before flooing back to the castle.   
He was alone, with nothing left to distract him from Harry.   
He looked at the small, broken form laying motionless on the couch. He set down his tea and made his way across the room and removed the crooked glasses lying skewed across his face.   
His breathing was deep and even now, and he shifted slightly under the light blanket Poppy had placed over him.    
He sat down again, on a stool next to the couch. He reached around to the back of his head, untying the emerald ribbon and letting his hair cascade down onto his shoulders.  He sighed, running a hand tiredly over his face.   
He hadn't broken his vow, so why was he so worried? The boy was expected to make a full recovery. He had done what was expected and required of him.   
What he couldn't explain, was the heavy burden of guilt he had placed on his own shoulders. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: do not own, yadda yadda.

He couldn't pin point exactly when he had woken up. It was gradual, a slow realization of his mind, his body, until suddenly, he was awake, more or less.   
His head felt fuzzy and unfocused, as if fighting to stay alert. The pull of sleep was heavy on his mind, and he felt absolutely no desire to move from where he was.   
Where was he?  
He opened his eyes, blinking the room into focus. His vision was blurry; someone had removed his glasses, but he didn't care enough to reach out for them.   
He could see a soft light off to his left, and a backlit figure lay slumped over, head buried in their arms on the edge of his bed.   
He squinted against his poor eyesight, trying to bring the figure into sharper focus.   
Dark hair was splayed over one of their arms, and all he could tell of their robes were that they were black.   
He leaned his head back, thinking. He remembered the attack, but he couldn't remember anything after Snape had grabbed his hand.   
Had he gotten them away? Was Severus okay? He had to be, if Harry was alive, taking his vow into account.   
_...I will do all I can to keep him safe..._  
The words of his vow rang in his ears. That was the loophole, wasn't it? Snape could be dead, or dying, and Harry would be perfectly safe. He had done all he could, he had tried his very best.   
But what if it wasn't enough?  
More tired now than he was when he had awoken, Harry gave himself over again to the peaceful bliss of a dreamless sleep.   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
"Neither awake yet?" A soft voice murmured.   
"No, not yet, I'm afraid," A second replied, just as subdued.   
"S'not true," Harry mumbled, opening his eyes.   
He blinked a few times, and glasses were stuck gently onto his face.  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley snapped into focus next to his bed.   
"Did we wake you, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, voice still only slightly above a whisper.   
Harry shook his head as he yawned. He felt a sharp sting along his chest as it expanded. He winced, looking down at himself.   
He was still wearing his formal clothes, but his robe seemed to be missing, and his shirt had been torn open, a button missing here and there.   
But across his whole chest, was an aggravated pink stripe of healing flesh.   
He recognized the curse he had been hit with at once; he had used it against Draco Malfoy in his sixth year. It was The Half Blood Prince's own _Sectumsempra_.   
"Snape," he breathed, looking around.   
The figure he saw earlier slumped over onto his bed still rested there, but with his face tilted upward now.   
Relief coursed through Harry, and he turned back to Mrs. Weasley.   
"This is the first time the poor dear has slept since you got here," she said, nodding to Severus. "He hasn't left this room but to go to the bathroom. He finally nodded off some time last night,"  
"How long have we been here?" Harry asked, voice hoarse and thick with sleep.   
"A day and a half," Mr. Weasley said gently. "Honestly, we didn't expect you to wake up so soon, considering the amount of blood you lost. Good thing Severus was with you,"  
Harry just nodded.   
"Are you hungry?" Mrs. Weasley asked after a minute. "Oh silly me, you must be. I'll go whip something up right quick," She smiled and bustled out of the room.   
"And I'm due at the Ministry," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Just never ends," he laughed half-heartedly and followed after his wife.   
By the time Mrs. Weasley had returned, Severus had groggily sat up and looked around.   
Harry watched him silently as he stretched, rubbing at a kink in his neck with a sour look on his face. Harry had never seen him in the morning, Snape had always been awake when he ventured from his room.   
"Must you stare, Potter?" Snape barked at him hoarsely.   
"Sorry," he muttered, looking back to the door where Mrs. Weasley was backing in, a floating train of plates and saucers in front of her.   
"Good thing I have enough for two," she said cheerily, "Morning, Severus. How did you sleep?"   
"Horribly," he grimaced.   
"Not a morning person either, I see," she said, slightly ruffled.   
"Hardly," he sneered after stifling a yawn under his hand.   
After a fair amount of tutting aimed at Snape, she turned back to Harry.   
"Enjoy, dear. And don't worry yourself about cleaning, just have Severus send it down to the kitchen. You rest up,"  
"Thanks," Harry smiled up at her.   
He glanced at Severus briefly as the plates settled themselves in the air in front of him. He was glaring at the dishes arranged before him, surely not happy as being painted in the role of babysitter while Molly was around.   
His hair fell loosely around his face, wavy and tangled in a very un-Snape type manner. His skin was smudged and dirty, and his robes were torn and caked with patches of blood and dirt. His eyes were dull and tired, as if he were fighting to keep them open, with no sharp glint to them at all.   
Harry furrowed his brow, but soon forgot his train of thought as he helped himself to almost everything before him; scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, and even a bowl of some Muggle brand of colorful cereal. He hadn't realized just how hungry he had been.   
Severus took an eggs Benedict and toast, and they ate in silence.   
"You're ok than?" Harry asked somewhat timidly, feeling his fear of the man and his temper.   
Snape nodded without looking at him.   
Harry wiped his mouth and drained his cup of pumpkin juice.   
"Are you through eating?"   
At Harry's nod, Severus banished the remaining food and plates down to the kitchen.   
As Harry stared at his hands clasped together on top of his blanketed legs, he thought about what he had woken up to this morning.   
Severus had been fast asleep, head on his bed. He knew for a fact that the Weasleys had multiple unused rooms, now that all of their kids had moved away, that they would be more than willing to lend to Snape. But he had been at Harry's side, presumably, since they arrived. Harry smiled slightly to himself.  
But than again, Snape wouldn't have fought that hard just to let him die in a bed at the Burrow. He had to be there, to protect and serve. To honor his vow.   
Their vow kept creeping up on him, but Snape's actions made no sense without it, he reminded himself. He was doing his duty, that was all. He tried not to think about the knot that had formed in his stomach.   
He drew in a deep breath, only to release it sharply through gritted teeth. The pain in his chest had flared at the stretching skin, protesting the movement. He hissed, closing his eyes and knotting his hands in the blanket.   
He felt Snape stand and in a matter of seconds firm, yet gentle hands had taken one of his in their own, untangling him from the blanket. A vial was placed against his palm and he opened his eyes.   
"Drink this,"   
Harry nodded. He fumbled with the stopper, only to have Snape silently uncork it for him. He downed the entire contents at once, and almost instantly sank back against his pillows. His body ached from the stress of taut muscles fighting the pain, and he was breathing heavily.   
"I am so sorry," Snape murmured softly. So softly, that Harry barely heard him over his own ragged breathing. He looked over at the man.   
He was again sitting, leaning on the bed. His elbows rested against the mattress and he had laid his head in his hands, which were knotting themselves into his already tangled hair, as if in agony.   
Harry took as deep a breath as his body would allow and got his labored breathing under control. He took the time that the potion was strongest to heave himself so he was sitting fully upright in bed.   
"For what?" he asked, voice shaking slightly.   
Snape just shook his head slowly.   
"I'm sorry," he said again.   
"Well it's hardly you're fault, sir. You surely didn't cast it,"   
"No one would have cast it if I hadn't created it in the first place," he said bitterly.   
Harry laughed at the absurdity of the man's guilt.   
"Something funny?" he asked harshly, raising his head.   
Harry stopped laughing, and looked him in the eyes. He had never seen so much emotion in the dark eyes, which Harry noticed for the first time, were not black after all, but a very dark, rich brown.   
He let the smile fade from his lips and said very seriously, "Severus, you can't blame yourself. Even if you hadn't ever made that spell, I'd most likely be sitting right here. I might even be in worse condition. He would've instead used Cruciatius, or the Killing Curse. Who knows? Don't beat yourself up over it. I'm fine." He smiled.   
Snape didn't move, he just kept on staring at Harry, eyes still turbulent.   
"Please," Harry said softly, than louder "And anyway, I used it on Draco and I tried to use it on you. I reckon I had it coming," he said, crooked grin lighting up his features. "Now, can we please clean ourselves up? I feel about as disgusting as you look,"  
The old sneer was back in place on Severus' features.   
"Such tact," he drawled, pulling his wand from his robes.   
He did a quick cleansing spell and Harry felt a tingling in his scalp and over his skin as the dirt was magicked away. Severus' hair straightened and untangled itself, even gaining a soft shine.   
Than the clothes around Harry shifted, and he found himself wearing soft pajama bottoms.   
He raised an eyebrow at Snape.   
"No shirt?" he asked.   
"Look at your chest again before you imply anything," came the quick answer.   
Harry shrugged. "It's ok, I'd like looking at me too, Snape,"   
"Bugger off,"  
Pointing his wand at himself, he quickly transformed his own clothes into a pair of baggy black sweatpants and a black tee shirt. Harry couldn't help but notice how the shirt clung loosely to the muscles of Snape's chest; subtle, yet definitely there.   
"Do you ever wear anything that isn't black?"  
Snape looked at him and lifted an eyebrow, instantly changing the tee shirt to a dark grey.   
Harry chuckled once, shaking his head.   
Than he noticed the pajama bottoms.   
"You just had to get me in Slytherin colors didn't you?" he said, disgusted.   
"The Chosen One, clad in Slytherin colors? The temptation was too much, even taking into account the disgrace on my house," Snape smirked.   
"Git," Harry muttered. "You know, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. I asked it not to," he admitted.   
"I doubt that. If the Sorting Hat wanted you in Slytherin, you'd have been in Slytherin,"  
Harry shrugged. "Apparently not. It listened to me, and put me in Gryffindor. And boy, am I grateful,"   
Snape raised an eyebrow "Do go on,"   
"Sword came in handy," Harry grinned ruefully as Severus rolled his eyes.   
They fell into silence.   
"Thank you," he said softly, looking down at his legs.   
There was no reply.   
"For saving my life, I mean. And not just now, but all the other times too. In school, and everything,"  
Snape nodded, not unkindly, and when Harry looked at his eyes, they were somehow softer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not intend to stake claim or ownership. (although I did just see Deathly Hallows pt. 2....hence the new chapter. I had to resurrect some characters in my mind. I just cannot handle that shit.)
> 
> This is kind of a cool down chapter from the action of the last few, so bear with the shortness please, I will have more plot action in chapter ten, I promise! I wanted to put a shot into a typical day between Harry and Snape, since up until now it's been at the wedding, or remodeling, or fighting. Not much of anything on a day to day basis, where they would be able to bond. So, enjoy! I will try to write and upload ten as soon as possible, I solemnly swear!

"Honestly, your trust in the man is extremely misplaced," Severus said, exasperated.  
"It is not! I would trust Hagrid with my life," Harry countered.  
"Well, it is a good thing it has been placed in my hands instead, now isn't it?"  
Severus was leaning against the footboard of Harry's bead, propped up on one arm, nursing a glass of firewhiskey. One leg hung gracefully over the side of the bed, the other bent at the knee, his foot flat on the mattress.  
Harry was against his pillows, his blankets disheveled all around him. He sat cross legged, facing Severus as they discussed the gamekeeper.  
"Honestly, he's a thoroughly good man, you've just never liked him, that's all."  
"No, he has a tendency to bring animals to the school that are as untamed as he is. _That_ is all,"  
Harry scoffed.  
Snape began ticking them off on his fingers, "Let's see, first it was Fluffy,"  
"Who was bloody useful," Harry interjected. Snape ignored him and carried on.  
"Than that blasted dragon- and a Norwegian Ridgeback no less!"  
"Ah, Norbert," Harry nodded.  
"Than it was the Hippogriff, nearly killed Malfoy,"  
"Buckbeack hardly even scratched him." Harry snorted, rolling his eyes, "Could've kissed him for it, though," he added as an afterthought.  
Snape paused to glare at him.  
"Than he had blast ended skrewts as well as a number of dangerous creatures for the students, as I'm sure you can remember. And than that blasted acromantula came out of nowhere. And Slughorn got all of the venom from it," he finished sourly.  
"Hagrid knew Aragog way before my sixth year, Severus. He raised him when he was in the castle, when the Chamber was opened the first time. It's why he was expelled- they thought he did it," Harry explained.  
Snape considered this, but than moved on. "What's next, a giant?"  
Harry laughed. "You've obviously never met Grawp."  
Snape's mouth fell open, "Are you telling me-"  
Harry nodded. "Grawp is his half brother. Lives in the Forest. Helped out in the battle, too. Lucky he was there, actually,"  
"Yeah, lucky," Snape muttered, still slightly shocked. Recovering quickly enough, he took another route. "The man shouldn't be allowed to drink on his own if you ask me,"  
"What are you on about now?"  
"Well, I'm sure he came to own these... _creatures_ while inebriated."  
Harry laughed, "I wouldn't count on it. Hagrid's always been..." he trailed off, looking for the right way to say it.  
"Mad?" Snape supplied.  
Harry scowled at him and crossed his arms. "Say what you want, I love Hagrid."  
Snape simply shrugged and took a swig from his glass.  
"When do you reckon we can go home?" Harry asked, restless.  
They had confined him to bed rest for six days now, and as much as he loved the Burrow, if he never had to see these four walls again he'd be happy.  
Severus had spent most every night with him, and often the days. He only left to talk to the Order, or when Molly called him for help around the house. The latter usually left him in a quite foul mood upon his return.  
As to his injuries, Harry thought he was healing well. He was down to taking only two low-strength pain potions a day; (on the days they let him out of bed) one mid-morning and one in the early hours of the afternoon.  
He had regained his whole range of movement, and with the exception of some of the more strenuous activities, could perform all of his basic daily functions without pain.  
"I don't _reckon_ we can. They found us, Harry. We can't go back to that house."  
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, I guess I knew that. Can we get our stuff at least?"  
"I suppose we may be able to arrange that," Snape conceded, not telling him that he actually had found it a good idea. He had quite a few valuable potions ingredients he would like to collect.  
"Good. My Invisibility Cloak's still there,"  
They fell silent again.  
"Where will we go?" he asked quietly.  
"Honestly? I don't know." Snape answered, looking at a point somewhere behind Harry. "I don't know," he repeated quietly to himself.  
This time, the silence that fell was heavy and a sense of loss and helplessness pervaded the air around them. Harry leaned back against his headboard, letting out a long breath.  
A knock on the door jarred them from their thoughts.  
A red head hesitantly leaned around the open door.  
"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. He hadn't seen her since her seventh year at Hogwarts, apart from a very brief conversation at the wedding. He hadn't expected her to come see him.  
"Hey," she said, smiling.  
As she held the door open, Draco strode in. Harry could tell he was trying his best not to show his distaste for the Burrow. He had gotten more civil, Harry might even dare to say friendlier, but he was still Draco after all.  
"Harry, want to take a walk? I hear mum's got you pretty locked up here. We can leave the _Slytherins_ to themselves," she teased, bumping into Draco with a playful smile.  
"That sounds wonderful, actually," he said, looking to Snape, who simply nodded his approval. Harry didn't need his permission, there were enough people at the Burrow to watch over him no matter where he went, but he liked to know that Severus thought it was ok.  
He jumped out of bed and grabbed a navy blue hoodie to put on, not bothering to change out of his grey pajama bottoms. He couldn't leave the yard, anyway. The weather was warm during the day, but since the sun was setting, Harry knew it would be cold soon.  
They walked through the garden, not in any hurry, and with no particular destination in mind.  
A warm breeze ruffled his hair playfully, and he smiled as it caressed his skin.  
"You two are happy then?" he asked.  
"Very," Ginny smiled, "Draco's wonderful, if you're patient enough for him to show you."  
"Don't tell them, but I think I'm beginning to realize Slytherins aren't all that bad,"  
"Nevermind me and Draco, how are you and Snape getting along?" she asked, genuinely curious.  
Harry figured, like the rest of them, she couldn't fathom his situation.  
"Surprisingly well, believe it or not. We have this...truce going on, I guess. I don't bother him much, and he doesn't get on me for every little thing. it's actually kind of...nice. He's not as bad of company as I would've thought," he paused, looking out over the garden.  
"Probably about the same as Draco," Ginny decided.  
Harry smiled. "Yeah, probably."  
"Well, I'm glad to hear you aren't torturing each other,"  
"I'm glad to report it," he laughed.  
The sun had dropped just below the horizon as they had walked. The sky was a dazzling array of gold and orange, but the absence of the warmth could already be felt. Harry shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself.  
They walked well into dusk, talking about nothing and everything, until Draco appeared in the kitchen doorway.  
"Ginny!" he called, "Father is expecting us home for dinner."  
She gave Harry a warm hug before joining Draco at the door. Hand in hand, they walked back inside to floo back to Malfoy Manner.  
Harry made his way back through the garden to the gate, where the Ford Anglia had first landed. Where he had first set eyes upon the Burrow. He smiled to himself and sat down, thinking back on his school years.  
He couldn't decide if life was better than, or now. Certainly easier, in some respects.  
He heard the door open once more, and he was suddenly bathed in the yellow light.  
"Come inside, Potter. You'll catch cold,"  
"I'll be fine, Snape."  
"I'm not going to feed you soup when you're too sick to sit up," he went on.  
The door closed and Harry sighed. It was definitely easier when Snape was just a slimy git of a professor that he loved to hate.  
He heard footsteps wind their way to him. Apparently, the man had not gone back inside as Harry had thought.  
A warm blanket was placed around his shoulders, and he gratefully pulled it around him, snuggling in.  
Snape lowered himself down next to him, and they sat in companionable silence.  
"There's an Order meeting tomorrow. They'll decide what to do with us then," Severus said quietly into the night.  
Harry smiled at the use of the word _us_. They were an us, weren't they? A package deal. Whether either wanted it or not, and Harry had to admit, it was nice to be able to count on someone so fully, regardless of it was because of a forced upon vow.  
He laid his head onto the soft fabric adorning Snape's shoulder as he leaned into the other man.  
And for once, he didn't deftly maneuver his way out from underneath.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you get it that I don't intend to stake a claim to this series. so, I'm not putting disclaimers on every chapter. that was a little bit overkill.
> 
> enjoy!

"Do they know about Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked, turning slightly to look at Severus, who had seated himself next to the young man.  
The key members of the Order were all sitting around the table in the kitchen of the Burrow.   
While the group was as big as ever after the war, most of it's members were never called upon- there had been no need.   
There had seldom been a reason for a meeting, either, until Greyback had first started acting up.   
Presently, there were only six of them: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Kingsley, McGonagall, Severus, and Harry.  
"Yes. The Dark Lord chose not to attack there because it was never the most convenient," he explained. "We can't go there; Greyback is far less careful, wards will not give him pause,"  
"I've already said, the two of you are to stay here!" Molly exclaimed, put out.   
"I can't accept that, Molly," Severus said.   
"We appreciate it, really," Harry said quickly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "I just can't live with putting you two in any more danger, and besides, he knows where the Burrow is, too. He'd be expecting us to crash here,"   
Molly scowled slightly and shifted unhappily in her chair, unhappily conceding his point.   
"So, we need a safe house the Death Eaters never knew of," Shacklebolt deduced, looking to Severus.   
"Unfortunately, there are none. Dumbledore had me reveal all safe houses to You-Know-Who when the Order moved Harry in his seventh year in order to spread out Voldemort's forces."  
"What about Hogwarts?" Minerva offered, "There are spare chambers in several of the towers,"   
"Too predictable," Arthur said, "They'll check all the places the two of you would think to turn to first. Here, Hogwarts, the safe houses, Spinners End..." he trailed off.   
They all fell silent as their options slowly dwindled.   
"What if I bought a house?" Harry asked, looking up.    
Five pairs of eyes turned to look at him.   
"I mean, I have more than enough gold, and we need a house they don't know about, right?"  
Snape nodded slowly, thinking it over.   
"Well, with a new house, only we would know where it is," Harry reasoned. "I mean, we'd still ward it and everything, of course."  
"That's actually not a bad idea," Snape mused.   
"Don't sound so surprise, I do possess a brain, you know," Harry glowered at the older man.   
"Oh, indeed; I never doubted it. I was under the impression you were just unwilling to use it," he answered silkily.   
Harry huffed and stuck his tongue out as Snape finally let his gaze stray to Harry's. He smirked once before they both turned back to the table.   
"It could work, with the proper precautions," Snape decided.   
"A closed floo, for one," Arthur suggested.   
"We could create the wards so they only let certain people in, that way we can apparate directly into the house and never have to take them down," Minerva added.   
"Yes. That sounds like our best plan of action. I'm sorry to leave so early, but I trust you can hash out the details without me," Kingsley said. "I have some things to attend to back at the Ministry,"  
"I really must be getting back to the school as well," McGonagall stood up with Kingsley. "I'll see you all soon."   
The pair left, and the Weasleys soon retired to their room for the night, leaving Snape and Harry alone at the table.   
"We will split the cost," Severus said.   
"That's not necessary. If not for me, you'd still have a home...and a life," he laughed humorlessly. "I have enough, it's not a problem."   
"I will not live in a house I have not gotten for myself. I am not poor, Potter. We were both naïve, we can both replace it," Severus said, tone clearly implying that their was to be no argument.   
"If you insist," Harry sighed. "But I do hope you realize that as soon as Greyback is gone, this will complicate things."  
"We can worry about that when the time comes," Snape answered, sounding tired.   
"I am off to retire to bed," he announced. "You would do well to do the same," he said, leveling Harry with a stare.   
"Gosh, Professor, is it curfew already?" Harry mocked.   
Snape glared down his nose at him as he stood, but stayed silent.   
"How is it you can still make me feel as if I'm about to get a detention?" Harry complained under his breath, as he stood up as well.   
"It's a skill," Severus deadpanned as he walked to the stairs.   
Harry chuckled to himself as he followed him up to their room.   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
"I like this one!" Harry enthused as they stood in the living room of the seventh house that day.   
Snape sighed as he unenthusiastically followed him from room to room.   
"It looks like the six other ones we've been in, Potter. _Just pick one_ ,"   
"This is what we'll be living in, Severus!" Harry chided.   
"Yes, I realize that. And as long as it has four walls and a room separate from yours, the rest of this dreadful process does not interest me," he drawled.   
"Party pooper," Harry muttered. "Fine. We'll take this one."   
"Thank Merlin,"  
Snape turned to the goblin and dealt with the finances as Harry meandered through the rooms some more.   
The high ceilings and skylights lent to a light, open atmosphere, and as he walked along the long hallway he trailed his fingers lightly along the walls, mind reeling with the excitement of decorating a new house.   
At the end of the hallway there were four rooms; two bedrooms, which shared a bathroom between them. Harry didn't know why that hadn't been a deal breaker for Severus, but he could only imagine the trouble in store. The fourth room was a den, which would most likely be Harry's.   
Severus would most certainly stake claim to the guest room in the front of the house by the kitchen, and convert it into his personal lab.   
Harry found his way back to the large living room, and stood at the French doors, which offered a nice view of the expansive side yard and the woods beyond.   
He felt a body settle next to his.   
"Can we get a fire pit?"  
"I suppose," Severus answered, tone neutral.   
They stood looking out the window for a while, before Snape suggested they go collect their things and settle in.   
They would no doubt need a fair amount of time to hash out boundaries and room distribution.   
A mere four hours later, the sun had set on their new, completely furnished home-complete with a fire pit.   
Harry sat on his bed, back against the wall and surveyed his new room. He had transfigured his furniture into a warm oak finish and garnished everything in red and gold. His firebolt was hanging lengthwise over his bed, and he even had a case for his chocolate frog cards.   
Severus had nearly gagged when he had walked in, and Harry was surprised at the deep blues and greens his room sported. It was actually quite calming.   
The bathroom was a neutral mix of tans and browns, as was most of the rest of the house.   
Harry climbed into bed that first night, and couldn't help but feel a sense of loss as he stared at his empty room. He had grown quite accustomed to sharing his room with Snape while they were camped out at the Burrow.  
As he climbed into bed, he had no one to wish goodnight, no soft breathing to calm him in the dead of night, and no face to wake up to in the morning.    
He sighed and rolled over, hugging his blankets around him. He would just have to get used to it.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
The next few weeks passed quietly, with no reports of Greyback or his followers, and Harry and Snape had fallen into a routine.   
Snape would get up early and make enough coffee for them each to sit and share the paper over.   
They would fight about what sections they got until, finally, Harry got anything Quidditch related, and anything else Snape didn't want.   
Than they would do their separate activities and reconvene for a quiet dinner, and retire to the family room to spend their evenings together.   
Never admitting it to each other, and rarely even to themselves, they had both come to enjoy their life together, but that wasn't to say it had become easy.   
On more than one occasion, Harry had been locked outside with his fire pit, and a very creative hex to deal with.   
It was on one of these nights that Harry realized, as he crouched warming his hands over the fire, that he was utterly happy.   
He could be himself around Severus, and he found that the more time he spent with him- really spent with him, not just in proximity- the more he trusted him.   
He had always trusted Severus with his life, but for someone like Harry, his own life didn't mean much to him, not when there were suppressors and evils in the world. There were bigger, more important things than him.   
But now; now he felt like he could trust Severus with more than his life, he could tell him more than he could tell most anyone, sometimes even including Ron and Hermione.   
For the first time, he didn't resent the vow they had taken. He was thankful for it. Because it had thrown him into a situation where he had gotten to know Severus, instead of Professor Snape.   
And he wasn't sure he wanted Greyback to be caught anymore.   


	11. Chapter 11

"Potter," Severus growled through the door, "Let me in this instant."

The lock clicked open and the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking Harry Potter standing in a pair of stone washed jeans, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. His hair stuck up at the back and his eyes were still only half awake behind his glasses.

"How you convinced me to buy a house with one bathroom, I'll never know," he mumbled as he pushed past the Gryffindor into the small room.

"At least there's two sinks," Harry said as he spit into one.

Snape grunted as he reached for his razor.

"Long night?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Harry asked sleepily, blinking once.

"You seem more tired than usual," Snape pointed out.

"Oh, I guess," Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Haven't been able to sleep," he explained.

"Do you need a potion?"

Harry smiled at the thought of Snape actually caring about whether he was sleeping well enough to brew him a potion.

"Nah, I've just been thinking,"

"Always a danger," Snape agreed.

"Sod off. I've been thinking about Greyback," Harry added, not wanting to inform Severus about the nightmares that had recently been plaguing him.

"Ah," Snape nodded. "I'm sure the Ministry will think of something. In the meantime, the Order's wards are more than enough,"

"Yeah," Harry said, still dissatisfied.

"It would be nice to have my own life back," Severus mused as he wiped a damp cloth over his face.

"Yeah," Harry said again, trying to hide the tightness in his chest that Severus' words had caused. "I'm gonna go get dressed," he said and he promptly left the bathroom.

As he pulled on a faded burgundy v-neck he thought about what Snape had just said.

 _It would be nice to have my own life back..._

Harry wasn't sure what had upset him more; the fact that he disliked this simple and very predictable viewpoint, or the fact that he was upset about it at all.

He thought the pair was doing well, under the circumstances. They hadn't gotten into a major fight in weeks. Sure they had little spats almost daily, but that was to be expected, of course.

Pushing thoughts of Severus out of his head, he sighed and ran a rough hand through his hair.

He slipped his feet into an old pair of sandals and headed outside.

 **x X x**

Harry had spent the day studiously ignoring and avoiding Severus. While Snape did notice and think it odd, he decided it wasn't worth his time as long as the brat wasn't wandering off. He took it as a temporary repreve and had locked himself in his study for the day.

Come nightfall, Harry was still outside, having just transfigured his shirt into a thick sweater. He stared into the dying flames of his fire pit and turned his skewer. S'mores had always been comfort food to him, he could always rely on the smell of woodsmoke and melting marshmallows to calm his nerves.

He heard the glass door open and leaves crunching underneath soft footsteps.

He could feel Severus standing beside him, but he kept facing forward.

"You've been awfully quiet today," he noted.

Harry shrugged, and a tense silence ensued.

"Are you hungry?"

He held up his toasting marshmallow in one hand, and a box of Graham crackers in the other.

"Ah," Snape said quietly. "Well, I'm off to bed,"

"Night," Harry managed to mutter.

Severus didn't leave right away, as if waiting for Harry to do or say something else. After a stoic silence on Harrys end, the man issued a soft sigh before returning back inside.

Harry chuckled darkly once, before throwing his entire skewer into the fire. He put the lid on the fire pit and waited for the smoke to dissipate before finally retreating back to his bedroom.

 **x X x**

He awoke suddenly, hands gripped into tight fists. He was shaking, his sheets stuck to his clammy skin by a sheen of cold sweat. He licked his lips and sat up slowly, trying to recall his dream.

He remembered a pair of vivid yellow eyes, staring at him from a dark cove in the woods. He couldn't remember how he had come to be standing in the middle of the dense forest, but that didn't seem to matter. All that mattered were the eyes, the eyes that were trained solely onto him. He took a step back, carefully and a twig snapped under his foot.

He jumped, and the creature lurched into the open.

Harry couldn't remember what happened next. From there on, it was a muddled mix. All he knew was that Severus showed up to protect him, and that there was blood. Whether it had been the beasts, or Snapes, he didn't know, but through the fog came enough terror to make his mind recoil from the images.

Every night was the same pair of eyes.

He splashed cold water over his face and neck and looked over himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark bags he had noticed earlier that day were more prominent than ever. He sighed, thinking he might have to concede and take Snape up on that sleeping potion.

He glanced over at the door to the older man's bedroom and hesitantly made his way over to it.

He took a shaky breath and opened the door a crack, just enough to put his head through.

"Severus?" he whispered.

No answer.

"Severus?" he tried again.

Still no answer.

He opened the door wider, wincing as the hinges creaked slightly. He took a single step into the room, slowly putting all his weight down as to not elicit more noise from the wooden floorboards. As his eyes adjusted he took in the form stretched out across the bed. Snape was stretched sideways across his large, emerald comforter, all of his clothes as they had been that day. It looked as if he had simply collapsed onto the bed and fallen asleep.

He took in his features, softened by sleep. He looked calm, and peaceful. Very un-Snape like. He didn't look happy, Harry decided, he just didn't look angry or annoyed for once. His lips were slightly parted and his hair fell in sharp, contrasting tangles across his white pillow.

Harry could only imagine how quick that serenity would shift should the man wake to find Harry in his room.  
He sidled backwards out the door, retreating to his own room. He laid down, deciding it could wait until morning. For now, he would let Severus sleep; he could bother him again tomorrow.

He tried not to think about how he knew that that peaceful image of Snape, sleeping just beyond the wall, would carry him through the night, nightmare free.  
 **  
x X x**

Severus awoke early the next morning, cold on top of the covers despite having fallen asleep in his cloak.

He got up stiffly and stretched, grabbing a fresh towel and heading to the shower. He let the hot water caress his skin and took a quick moment to ponder over Harry's strange behavior yesterday.

While he was never always around, Severus couldn't help but sense a bit of hostility. He had never secluded himself so completely before, and never had they gone a day without a single conversation. They usually ate dinner together.

It was as if he had offended the boy in some way, he just had no idea as to how he could've gone about that this time. He really was too sensitive; a Slytherin would never care about the thoughts of others.

He paused in his thinking, realizing how contradictory that was, when that was exactly what he was doing now.  
He issued a low growl and turned the water off, dressing himself in silk boxers and a deep emerald robe. He tied it loosely around his waist and started to towel dry his long hair, before the unfamiliar smell of breakfast cooking hit his nose.

He wandered out to the kitchen, expecting to find at least one of Harrys friends, but instead was greeted by just Harry, clad only in pajama bottoms and an apron.

Harry turned as he entered and cast an eye over Snape's clothing (or lackthereof) and wet hair before raising an eyebrow and smirking.  
Severus pulled the robe tighter self-consciously before sitting down.

"What brought this on?" he asked, almost fearing the answer.

"Hunger," Harry said simply.

Snape scowled, but didn't press the issue, instead resigned himself to being served.

"Coffee?" Harry asked, holding the pot above an empty mug.

"Please,"

Breakfast was a rather silent affair, the quiet only broached when Harry had stood to start cleaning.

"Do you still think you could brew me some Dreamless Sleep?" he asked, as if genuinely afraid of the answer being no.

"Of course, I'll have full stock for you by tonight," Snape said casually, waiting to see if Harry would offer some sort of explanation. Their conversation in the bathroom the day before hadn't been exactly enlightening.

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling tentatively at him. "I was thinking of going to the Burrow today. They've got all the same wards as we do, and their Floo is directly connected, so it's almost like an extension of our place, really..." he trailed off, looking at Severus.

He chewed the inside of his lip as he thought. He narrowed his eyes slightly at Harry, and saw a flicker of disappointment in the green eyes, however Harry never looked away.

"I suppose. But check in at lunch," he lectured.

Harry straightened and clapped a hand to his head in mock salute. "Yes, sir!"

He laughed as Severus rolled his eyes and patted his shoulder as he walked by, already on his way to the fireplace.

When the sounds had died from the roaring flames, and Snape was sure Harry was gone, he went to go inspect the boys bedroom.  
If his suspicions were correct, he would have to have a chat with the young man.

He stood in the doorway and cast a quick revealing spell on the room. He nodded to himself as he uncovered a heavy silencing charm.  
So he wasn't just thinking about Greyback, he was dreaming about him. Harry was having nightmares, and out of his Gryffindor pride, he didn't want to wake Severus or ask for help.

He cursed under his breath and went to set about brewing, trying to push back the memories of what it meant the last time Harry dreamt about the one who wanted him dead.


	12. Chapter 12

"I will not give you Dreamless Sleep until you take the silencing spell down," Severus said, startling Harry from the book he was reading.

He looked up to see the man leaning, arms-crossed, against his door frame. He scowled slightly and marked his page.

"What silencing spell?" Harry asked, leaning away from the headboard of his bed. "Don't insult my intelligence, Potter," Snape spat. He may have been living with the brat for a few months, but it didn't mean he had learned any patience from it.

"Why does the spell matter, if you have Dreamless Sleep for me?"

"It _matters_ because I don't want your thick head to prevent you from letting me know when such an occasion arises. If these are not dreams, but in fact another... _connection_ , I am relying on the fact that without a silencing spell you will wake up in a fashion that will alert me. Even with the potion, a mental connection cannot be blocked." Snape explained wearily.

Harry bit the inside of his lip and appraised him for a second. He decided to let the fact that Snape had been snooping in his room go.  
"Fine," he agreed shortly, flicking his wand once to dismantle the spell before picking up his book again.

"Thank you," Severus said quietly, sincerely.

Harry looked up again, all trace of annoyance gone from his features, instead replaced with curiosity and surprise. He had not missed the uncharacteristic change in tone.

"You're welcome," he said, unsure of himself.

Snape locked eyes with him for a second, and noticed again how his eyes were not that of his mothers. They shone with his magic, yes, but it was more than that, he thought. They held such a reverence for life, and not just his own, but all life.

These were eyes that had seen more death and destruction than any young man should ever have to face. His eyes were tired and wise, but young and reckless at the same time. They were restless and alive, fiery in their passion for living, and shining with the joy of being able to indulge in a (semi)normal life.

He shook himself, nodded once at the figure on the bed, and retreated to his own room.

He didn't know what was coming over him anymore.

 **x X x**

"Where to next?" Harry asked brightly.

Severus didn't get why this excursion held so much excitement for the young man.

"Flourish and Blotts, and than the Apothecary," he answered.

Harry nodded.

Snape ignored to constant stream of meaningless chatter that Harry kept up as they walked down the street, until they finally got to the book store. Taking a deep breath, Severus opened the door for Harry.

Harry gave him a quizzical look but kept walking. Once inside the store Harry had to physically remind himself not to separate from Severus. He hadn't been out of the house like this in Merlin knows how long.

Severus' hand found the small of Harry's back and he pushed him in the direction of the Biographies.

Harry sat on a desk while Snape ran his thin fingers over the spines of the books, looking for the one he wanted.

"What are you getting?"

" _The Man Behind the Magic_ ," Snape murmured, still looking.

"Isn't that Dumbledores?" Harry asked, confused as to why Severus would need or want his biography. He had known the man better than almost everyone.

"Yes. I thought it would be nice to have," he answered, distracted. "I also want to see how terribly they botched the story," he added.

"Ah," Harry nodded, growing bored of sitting.

He glanced around at the store. It was fairly busy for a Wednesday, but he had seen it far more packed with people. He smiled at a little girl in the childrens section, who was tugging on her moms sleeve.

Her mother turned to follow her daughters pointing finger, and instantly pulled the little girl away, and to the other side of the store.  
Harry frowned; that was weird. Most everywhere he went people at least smiled back at him.

"That wasn't because of you," Snape said quietly, having found his book, he had come to stand next to Harry.

Harry looked at him, brow furrowed.

"It was me," he explained quietly, breaking their eye contact and walking over to stand in line to pay.

"But why? You were exposed, everyone knows you were on our side," Harry said, slightly dumbfounded.

"Many people think I played both sides, and in the end picked the wrong one, and tried to say that I had been on Dumbledore's all along," he said, voice calm. Harry could detect a hint of sadness and anger that Snape was obviously trying to hide.

"But they're wrong! Would they have stuck me with you if that was the case?" Harry said, growing angrier. He wasn't sure why this was bothering him so much, but he knew he had to do something about it.

"Since when has the public opinion ever viewed the Ministry highly to trust them on everything? Fudge pretty much took care of that.

It'll take longer than a few years to rectify that," Snape said, growing shorter. Harry could tell he did not want to discuss this any further.

"Well, if they won't trust the Ministry, maybe they'll trust me. Public opinion is still in my favor, yeah?" he asked, an idea suddenly hitting him.

"What does that natter? Everyone pitied you, for having had no choice in the matter," Snape answered harshly.

"But what if they didn't need to know that?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"Call me Harry," he said quietly. "And go along with it," he added, leaning in closer to Snape.

"With what?" Severus asked, obviously annoyed.

"With this," Harry said, as he leaned in and kissed him softly. He brought one hand up and pulled Severus into him by the hem of his robes, before stroking his cheek and coming to rest on the back of his neck.

He pulled away slightly, and Snape growled against his lips. "Potter..."

"Shh. Trust me," Harry whispered, kissing him again.

This time, Snape kissed him back, albeit hesitantly and probably more than slightly reluctant.

Harry smiled and brought his other hand up until his arms were locked around Severus' neck. Snape slowly brought his hands to wrap around Harry's waist, and they kissed gently, as if they had been doing it forever.

Snape pulled away first, and this time Harry let him, each letting go of the other slowly, hands lingering. They stood slightly closer than they had before, and Harry's cheeks were tinged pink.

Snape glanced down at him, but Harry simply took the book from his hands and walked up to the register, smiling at the awestruck cashier behind it.

"Just this," he said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

"13 galleons," the man behind the counter managed to say.

Severus walked up to stand next to Harry as he pulled a handful of coins from his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Paying," Harry said, smiling at him.

"It's mine. I will pay for it,"

"Nonsense," Harry said seriously, knocking Severus' hand out of the way and presenting the money to the still stunned cashier.

"Thanks," Harry smiled brightly as he took the book back and turned around. He grabbed Snape's hand and towed him back through the small line of open mouthed witnesses at the register.

Once outside, Harry dropped his hand and gave him his book.

"What in Merlin's name," Snape started.

"Oh come off it, if they think I trust you, which I do, than they'll be more inclined to," Harry explained.

"You didn't have to do... _that_ ," Snape protested.

"And how else would you have had me do it? Trust isn't an easy thing to portray, Sev,"

"Just because you've kissed me does not give you permission to nickname me," Severus growled, finding he could come up with no way he would have rather Harry had gone about it. He didn't dwell too long on the implications of that line of thought.  
Harry just shrugged. "Apothecary?"

"Yes," Severus sighed, seeing arguing not going anywhere with the stubborn Gryffindor. He supposed the unorthodox way may have done more good than harm, so he decided to push it out of his mind and let it go.

"I'll stop into the Owlery while you're in there. It's just next door, and I'll meet you in there when I'm done," he said, stopping beside the door to Eeylop's.

Snape mulled it over, before nodding once and continuing on to the apothecary.

The chime sounded as he walked in and a surly man appeared behind the counter and nodded to him. He nodded back once, before walking around, trying to find the necessary replacements for his personal stock.

He thought about what had happened between him and Harry as he scooped out a pound of black beetle eyes.

He certainly had not been expecting that, and while he wasn't sure he would repeat the experience, it was far from unpleasant.  
When he had found himself kissing back, Harry had tasted sweet and innocent, like cold pumpkin juice on a hot day; refreshing.  
Still, he had only indulged the boy because, ridiculous as the ploy was, he could not risk pushing him away in front of so many people and looking like the jail warden everyone liked to paint him as.

Or so he had convinced himself.

Still, he had a strange feeling in his gut as he moved away from the beetle eyes and moved to Acromantula venom, that there was something more to what had happened. He just couldn't figure out what it was. It felt like he was overlooking the exact piece of the puzzle he needed to decipher what the picture was.

He sighed and pushed the encounter out of his mind as the chime above the door signaled the entrance of another customer.  
Turning around briefly, he saw two men enter, dressed in long black traveling cloaks.

The taller one looked vaguely familiar to Severus, though he wasn't sure where from. He cautiously turned his attention back to his purchases, but kept guard on the two men from the corner of his eye.

It all happened very fast.

Suddenly, the shopkeeper slumped over onto his counter, before falling to the floor, dead or unconscious, Severus couldn't tell.

Severus whirled around in a flurry of robes to find two wands pointed directly at him.

He reached minutely for his own, but the taller of the two men hissed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he growled.

Snape looked down, as if defeated, before quickly pulling his wand from the inside of his robes.

He tried to cast off a stunning spell, but the two men were faster, and soon he was disarmed and they were advancing slowly, malicious, triumphant smiles plastered to their faces.  
 **  
x X x**

Harry perused the aisles lazily for Hedwig's favorite treats.

He tried not to think too hard about what he had pulled back in Flourish and Blotts, afraid he wouldn't be able to uphold his cool, unshaken facade around Severus.

He wasn't sure why he'd done it, and he didn't particularly fancy figuring it out.

He bought his treats and stepped out into the sunshine of Diagon Alley.

He stopped, frowning. He looked down the street both ways, but nothing looked out of place.

Still, he could not shake the anxious feeling of dread growing rapidly in his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, _terribly_ wrong.

 _"Severus,"_ Harry whispered, panic flooding him. He ran into the Apothecary, and his stomach dropped at the sight that met him.  
The store was completely empty, an abandoned Flourish and Blott's bag and several broken jars lay on the floor to his left and he could just see a hand on the floor behind the counter.

Heart racing, he ran to the body of the shopkeeper, quickly concluding that he was stunned and unconscious.

Turning, he made his way to the fallen belongings. A small bag of beetle eyes were spilled and rolling away across the floor, but he didn't pay them any mind.

He reached a shaking hand to the bag from the bookstore and drew out the single purchase. _The Man Behind the Magic_  
"Severus," he breathed, more scared than he could ever remember being.

"Severus!" he screamed, jumping up and running outside, casting a quick _Renervate_ over his shoulder to awaken the stunned shopkeeper.

Once out in the street, Harry was at a loss. He didn't even know where to start.

He ran down the street, tears streaming from his eyes, not caring what he looked like.

He _had_ to find Severus, there was no other option.

"Severus," he whimpered pitifully once more as he reached the Apparition point.

With a crack, he was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

"Oh my- Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed as he fell unceremoniously from the hearth in front of where she had been folding laundry.

She had never seen him in this state before, his hair was even more unruly than usual, his glasses were askew and his clothes were covered head to toe in soot that he didn't even bother to wipe off. His brow glistened with sweat and he was breathing heavily, staring around franticly.

"Harry dear, what's wrong?" she asked, growing more worried by the second.

"They have him, he's gone. Mrs. Weasley, they've taken Severus," he said, as his eyes to tear up. He willed them away, having spent enough wasted time trying to see through his tears.

"What? Who? Harry, calm down. What's happened?" she asked, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and trying desperately to calm his nervous shaking.

"The Order. We need to get the Order together. Everyone, we need to-" he had started rambling, taking no notice to anything Molly attempted to do or say to help.

"Harry, dear. Slow down. What happened? I'll get the Order, but what in Merlin's name _happened_?" She was finding it increasingly difficult to remain calm around the frazzled man.

"They've taken Severus!" Harry cried, finally locking his gaze with hers.

His eyes were wild; fully dilated and full of worry and panic. They didn't look like Harry's eyes at all.

"Who, Harry, who took Severus?"

"I don't know! It has to be the Death Eaters, hasn't it? I was just next door, just for a minute, and than...than..." he trailed off, wracked with a single, heart wrenching sob.

"Ok, sit down, let's warm you up," she said, guiding him to the couch and conjuring a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. "I'll call the Order,"

When Mrs. Weasley had gone to contact everyone, Harry sat on the couch staring straight ahead. He sat, rocking back and forth, muttering "Gone...gone, he's...gone..." to himself; he was having trouble grasping the scale of what had happened.

How could he be so stupid? He knew they weren't to be separated. He let his stupid stunt in Flourish and Blotts cloud his judgement, and now Severus was gone.

He felt just like the stupid, reckless prat he had been at school, except now, the price was far worse than losing a few school points. Now Severus would pay for his stupidity.

He cried in anguish, hot tears spilling down his face, but he didn't care. Not anymore.

Snake had always been misunderstood, always been risking his own neck to save Harry and his friends, and this was how Harry repaid him.

He couldn't forgive himself for this.

Ron and Hermione were the first to floo in, finding Harry in a ball on the couch, staring ahead, but not really seeing anything.

"Harry?" Hermione asked slowly, walking towards him. "Harry, it's us,"

He raised his head and looked at her. Her heart broke at the sight of his tear stained face and anguished eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she said sadly, taking a seat next to him. She wrapped her arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder.

Ron sat down on his other side, but Harry barely took any notice.

They sat like this until the whole Order was assembled, and Mrs. Weasley came to herd them into the dining room.

Harry stood up, holding the blanket around him tightly.

When he took his seat at the table, Hermione gently prodded him. "Harry, tell us what happened,"

He looked up slowly, and started speaking.

His recollection was short, as not much had happened from his view point, and the Order seemed to sigh heavily as one.

"I would say you're right, it's the Death Eaters," Arthur agreed sullenly.

"But why Snape? They really want Harry, don't they?" Ron asked no one in particular.

The table all cast uneasy glances at one another, not one knowing quite what to say.

  
 **x X x**

"Why not just take us both?" Snape spit out as the whip made contact again with the skin of his back.

He gritted his teeth, not willing to give his captors the satisfaction they sought in his pain.

"Well, this is just more fun, now isn't it?" Macnair laughed, as he whipped him again.

Snape bit his lip to stop himself crying out.

When he awoke, he had been tied up in a small room, lit only by a single, melting candle in a bracket on the far wall, next to a set of stairs.

His hands had been tied tight above his head, and he was forced to stay standing ever since he had arrived.

"We wouldn't want to just kill you and your ward flat out, would we? No, that would be no fun at all," he said slowly, as if explaining something complex to a small child.

"Of course," Snape said, voice heavily laden with sarcasm.

"Now, now, we must watch out tongue," Macnair scolded condescendingly.

Snape snorted, and Macnair punched him square in the jaw.

Snape turned his head and spit out the blood that had welled inside his mouth, which prompted the Death Eater to laugh.

"Severus Snape," he mused. "How I hoped to be the one to pay you back for your _efforts_ during the war," he picked up the whip again, and this time conjured metal tips to cover the ends. Snape flared his nostrils, hoping he was hiding the flash of fear he felt constrict his chest.

He whipped Severus' bare chest, leaving deep cuts were the tips had punctured his skin.

He dragged the air in over his teeth, squaring his jaw and glaring at Macnair.

"So brave, so cold," Macnair purred, stepping forward and running his hands softly through Severus' long hair. "Let's see if we can't break you," he growled, pulling so hard on Snape's hair that the back of his head touched the top of his back.

He breathed heavily through his nose as he stared at the ceiling, eyes brimming with tears he refused to shed. He had been through worse, at the hands of Voldemort, and he could endure this.

He would escape. He wasn't sure how, without a wand, or the use if his hands, but he would escape. He would get back to Harry.  
As the metal tips raised new welts across his back, he succumbed to the blackness before him.

He could escape later.

x X x

"You should get some sleep, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, stirring Harry from his thoughts. He looked around. He was sitting alone at the table, still wrapped in his blanket.

He nodded mutely, not having the strength to argue. He wouldn't sleep anyway, not until they found Severus.

The feeling in Harry's gut had intensified, twisting his stomach until he thought he couldn't bare it anymore. Not to mention the guilt he placed upon himself.

Every time he thought of his bond mate, a new scenario popped into his head, more horrifying and gruesome than the last.

He walked numbly after Molly until she came to Ron's bedroom and shooed him inside.

Ron and Hermione were already asleep on the second bed, and Harry ambled over to the window sill and sat down, leaning his head against the cool glass.

"Severus, where are you," he murmured, defeated.

x X x

"Wake up, princess," Macnair said, voice sickly sweet.

Snape twitched, but kept his eyes closed.

"Hit him,"

Snape recognized the second voice as Dolohov. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, willing them to both leave.

A hand landed against his face, and he swayed in his restraints from the force of it. He grunted once, but still refused to open his eyes.

"Must have knocked him out good," Macnair mused, cracking his knuckles.

"I'll get him," Dolohov growled, and a second hand smacked him, this time harder. He could feel a trickle of blood fall down his cheek, and he finally opened his eyes.

"Aw, there we go. You've really got lovely eyes, Severus," Macnair said, leaning in close to his face.

Snape could feel his hot breath on his face, and he wanted to puke. He swallowed hard and turned his head away from the slimy man in front of him.

"Oh no, no. That won't do," Macnair said quietly as he roughly grabbed him by the jaw and turned his face back.

"Look at him, tied up and useless. Can't even think about defending himself," Dolohov said, sounding disgusted.

"He's not even good to look at," Macnair added, looking Snape over.

Severus hung his head, and to his dismay noticed he was stark naked. Paying more attention to his body, he also came to the realization that he was sore in places the whip couldn't reach. He had been abused. He felt bile rise at the back of his throat.

"Yeah, well, he gets the job done. Even if it is lacking the certain...chemistry," Dolohov laughed.

"Why not just kill me?" he rasped, voice hoarse.

"Well that would kill Harry too, now wouldn't it? And that's just too easy. No. You'll both pay, I'll make sure of that. Greyback only wants you after you're dead, and I'm positive he'll make sure no one ever finds your bodies," Dolohov smirked.

"Now he'll come to us," Macnair added, "He'll be in enough mental anguish to turn himself in, probably thinking he could make a deal. Him for you? That sounds like him, so very _sentimental_ ," he laughed, "Yes, he'll come. Don't you worry your pretty little head over that."

"When we've had our fun, wel'l kill you," Dolohov said nonchalantly.

"And than you'll be dog food," Macnair's eyes glinted as he reached for a riding crop, "Yes. We'll have our fun," he murmured, caressing the edges of the instrument.

Snape took a shallow breath; this looked like the end for them both. He silently cursed Kingsley for insisting on this perpetually troublesome vow.  
 **  
x X x**

"We have to go after him!" Harry cried, fed up at the Order's utter lack of haste, "He's hurt, he needs me- he needs _us_!"

"Harry, you can't just rush off into a den of waiting Death Eaters," Arthur reasoned.

"If they kill him, they kill me too," Harry said flatly.

The room fell silent. No one knew quite what to say to that.

"We have to go," he said again, quietly, "He would come for me,"

"Harry, we need a plan. We don't even know where we're going," Hermione said reasonably.

"I can find him. I know I can. It's the vow, the bond. He's in trouble. I can get to him,"

"But you can't go alone, mate" Ron protested.

"Than put a tracking spell on me and follow once I've found him; I don't care, as long as we do something," he cried, standing up and pacing the room.

"This is what they want," Neville said quietly, "Look at yourself, Harry. Anguished, ready to jump into action as recklessly as ever. This is what they _want_. They'll capture you,"

"Hell, you'll turn yourself in, won't you?" George guessed.

"It's been three days. _Three days_ since they've taken him. Who knows what they've done, what they've put him through. If we don't do something by tomorrow, I'm going by myself,"

The room fell silent again as Harry's ultimatum settled around them.

"I'll go with you Harry," Luna said softly.

"We'll all go with you," Charlie agreed.

"That's what they're expecting though, isn't it?" McGonagall murmured.

"Minerva?" Molly prompted.

"Well, if it were me, I'd be expecting a full on attack. If we were to go in, wands blazing, well, they'll just cut their losses and kill Severus won't they? That way, Harry and Severus are both taken care of, and all they have to worry about is taking as many of us down as they can," she finished softly, avoiding looking at Harry.

"Well than it's obvious isn't it?" Harry said, sounding determined. "I go in alone. Place a tracking spell on me, and you can come in later, when they're not expecting it. They won't kill me right away. Death Eaters live for others pain,"

"Do you hear yourself, mate?" Ron asked, incredulous.

"Absolutely not!" Ginny cried.

"This is insane, Harry," Fleur piped up.

"This bloody vow," Ron fumed. "Why Kingsley couldn't have trusted his word. Now look,"

Kingsley looked down at his hands on the table, embarassed.

"It's not just the vow," Harry snapped. As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn't.

"Than what is it, mate?" George asked into the silence.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, lowering his gaze. "It's nothing, nevermind,"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered, looking inexplicably sad. "You love him,"

She shook her head softly, eyes filled with worry.

"I'm going to bed," he finished, and quickly departed.

As he lie in bed that night, he couldn't help but hear Hermione's voice again.

 _'You love him...'_

That was it, wasn't it? The reason he couldn't stand when he had disappointed Severus, why he was upset when he had admitted to wanting his own life back, the reason he was so angered by the resentment of everyone in the book store. It all made sense now. Why he kissed him, why his disappearance had caused Harry to all but lose his mind. It wasn't just the vow anymore.

Harry wiped a single tear from his cheek.

"I love him," he whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry woke early the next morning, not having gotten more than a few hours of restless sleep. He sat by the window for a while, thinking over everything that had happened since he had been in Severus' care.

He tried to decide when he had fallen in love with the man, but he couldn't pin it to an exact time and place, all he knew was that somehow, between all the bickering and sarcasm, he had indeed come to love him.

It hadn't been all bad, he reasoned. The wedding, when they danced, had been nice. And when Snape had sat by his bedside until he got better.

He sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

He looked to where Ron and Hermione slept, curled into each other. Where had all the time gone? It felt like yesterday that they had been sharing a dormitory at Hogwarts.

He got up silently and summoned his father's old cloak. Setting it on the table next to their bed, he left the room.

He grabbed his cloak and prepared to leave, not anticipating needing, or being allowed use of anything else.

As he prepared to go, a movement to his left caught his attention. He turned around to face the living room and found Neville and Luna staring at him from where they sat amid all the blankets and pillows on the couch.

"You're going now, than?" Neville asked sadly, no hint of arguing to his voice.

"Yeah, figured it'd be easier," Harry whispered, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

Neville nodded, face blank, and Luna came to stand in front of Harry.

"Be careful, Harry. It's like they say, A nargle never bites twice," she said, a knowing look in her eye.

"Er...yeah, thanks," he mumbled, not sure at all as to what that was supposed to mean.

She caught him in a hug then, her small frame surprisingly strong. He wrapped one arm around her and hugged her back.

"Tell everyone I said goodbye, and I'll see you in a couple days,"

"You have the tracking charm on you?" Neville checked.

Harry nodded. "'Mione did it last night when she came to bed, thought I was asleep," he grinned half-heartedly, which wasn't returned by either one of them "Well, I'm off then," he said quietly, voice shaking slightly.

The two watched him go, and he paused in the yard, looking back at the house. For the first time, he felt a sense of foreboding, as if he may never live to see it again. He swallowed hard. No, they would come for him soon.

He thought about Severus, focusing on the clenched feeling in his stomach, and apparated.

 **  
x X x**

The door opened to Snape's left, but he didn't look up anymore. He didn't care who had come to beat him today.

Dolohov pushed off from his place on the wall across from Severus, where he had been watching the man as he hung in his restraints.

A large thump was followed by a soft whimper, and than heavy footsteps came thundering down the small staircase.

"Look what I found," Macnair said, triumphant.

"Well, well, isn't this a nice surprise? Looks like you have company, Severus," Dolohov purred.

Severus didn't move. He wouldn't let himself fall victim to whatever ploy they were trying to pull.

"Up, boy!" Macnair barked, "I want to show you something,"

He heard a scuffling as someone was lifted forcefully to their feet.

"Severus," a familiar voice breathed.

Snape's head snapped up instantly, and he turned to his left. His eyes were wide as they took in the sight of Harry, alive and well. And here, where they would shortly change that.

"No," he whispered, voice thick and coarse.

Harry took in the sight before him. Severus was naked, hair tangled and lank, hands hanging limp and bloody from their restraints. He was thinner than Harry had ever seen him, and every inch of his pale skin seemed to be covered in cuts, bruises or welts. He had a split lip, and a black eye. Harry wanted to be sick.

Now he knew why the feeling in his stomach had been so severe. He hadn't been protecting Severus. He had failed their vow.

"Harry, no," the frail voice managed, coughing up a bit of blood and spitting it out in front of him.

"Where'd you find him?" Dolohov asked, walking in circles around the boy.

"Outside the gates. Crying, yelling for poor Severus," Macnair laughed, switching his voice to a high soprano that sounded nothing like Harry, "Severus! Where are you Severus?" he laughed again and went on, "Let him go, I'll do anything, just let him go!"

Harry cringed away as Dolohov gently stroked his cheek.

"Yes," he breathed. "So supple, so soft,"

When Harry backed away, a look of pure disgust twisting his features, Dolohov reeled back and struck him.

"Tie him up," he barked, and Macnair set about the task leisurely, tying the handcuffs too tight and laughing at the wince of pain it elicited from Harry.

"You won't last two days, will you?"

Harry stared ahead defiantly, never moving his eyes from the point on the wall he was fixated on.

Macnair punched him straight in the gut. Harry bit the inside of his lip, but let no sound out.

"Than again..." Macnair mused. "Just as well, we needed a new play thing. This ones getting all worn out," he jerked his head toward Severus.

"I don't know, I've grown quite fond of Severus," Dolohov murmured, stroking his long, dirty hair. With a slight chuckle, as if to some private joke, he yanked down on Snape's hair.

Harry cringed in his restraints. He hoped the Order worked out their location quickly.

 **x X x**

"Harry," Severus said tiredly, when their captors were summoned upstairs. "Why?"

"I couldn't leave you," he said quietly, "and besides, I was going insane. Really. That vow really is something, isn't it?"

Severus appraised him doubtfully, realizing there was something Harry wasn't telling him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Harry shook his head, casting a wary glance over Severus' shoulder to the stairway.

 _'Get in my head'_ he mouthed. Snape raised one eyebrow. Harry rolled his eyes and nodded furiously.

Snape locked onto his gaze and in seconds Harry could feel him in his mind. He replayed everything that had happened between Diagon Alley and now.

Severus sighed. "There was really no choice, was there?" he said, straight into Harry's thoughts. Harry simply shook his head.

"It's been over two weeks, no ones coming," Severus thought bitterly.

Harry stared at him, eyes unreadable. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was all over for them.

"You should try to rest while you can. Those moments will help you get through," Snape supplied.

Harry nodded mutely. How had it come to this? He had never seen Snape look so utterly defeated and helpless. Apart from Dumbledore, he was probably the strongest man and wizard he had ever met. To see him powerless was disturbing.

All too soon, the door opened and the two men came down again, followed by Greyback. Severus hadn't seen the wolf since arriving, and he glared openly in his direction.

"Now, Severus, no need to be so rude," he tutted.

Harry snorted. Severus hung his head. The boy would never learn, would he?

"Something funny, boy?"

Harry stared at him defiantly, but said nothing.

"I asked you a question," he growled, gripping Harry roughly by the shoulders and shaking him.

Still, Harry made no noise.

"Answer me," Greyback snarled.

Harry just stared at him, unblinking.

"Get him to talk," Greyback ordered, stepping back. "I want to hear him scream for mercy,"

Macnair smiled and stepped forward, slowly circling Harry, who never moved.

"What have we here?" he murmured quietly, "A seeker, if I remember correctly? That means....yes, yes I know,"

He reached up and in a quick motion broke all the bones in three of Harry's fingers.

Harry inhaled sharply, and clenched his jaw. His breathing was rapid, and his eyes watered, but he still made no noise.

Macnair grunted once before snapping the boys wrist, but still Harry remained stoic.

 _Don't be so brave, Harry. Give them what they want_ Snape tried to will the boy into compliance.

Macnair was growing angry, and with one more strike, bent Harry's elbow backwards, shattering the bone and fracturing his forearm.

Harry was shaking his head violently back and forth, tears streaming from his eyes, but still he was silent.

Severus turned his head away, not wanting to witness any more. The movement did not escape notice.

"Hold on, I've got an idea," Dolohov said, walking forward. "Turn him this way,"

Macnair held Harry so that he was facing Severus, and he watched through the burning tears as Dolohov advanced.

He picked up the metal tipped whip and struck hard and fast against Severus' chest. Harry winced as Severus recoiled.

Dolohov raked the whip four more times over Snape's already tender flesh, before moving to pick up a branding iron.

Harry swallowed hard, and as soon as the burning tip collided with Severus' shoulder blade, the older man started screaming.

Harry had always thought of Snape as strong and willful. Throughout their torture, Severus had taken it without showing weakness, stoic and impassive as always, only relaxing into his shackles when the two death eaters had retired.

To see him now, crying out in agony...

"Stop it! Stop it, please just _stop_!" Harry cried, fighting against Macnair.

Dolohov lifted the iron from Snape's skin, and the cry died in Severus' throat as he slumped in his handcuffs.

"There's a good boy," Greyback said, fighting laughter. "We may have fun with you yet,"

With that, he turned and walked away.

In a blinding flash of green light, it all ended.

Harry heard a loud thump, and a number of footsteps, but couldn't find the strength to even open his eyes anymore.

 _'They must have changed their minds and killed him'_ Harry thought, trying to muster up the sadness he knew he should be feeling.

But instead, all he could do was wait with held breath for the welcome darkness of his own downfall.


	15. Chapter 15

He felt himself slip into the blackness, and he smiled lazily. After the last two weeks, he didn't care what happened anymore. How many times had he risked everything for people he didn't even know? And this one time, the Order couldn't come through for him. He was glad to die.

But this wasn't like the last time he died. He had gone to Kings Cross, it had been light, it had been quiet; painless. Dumbledore was there.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. He could still feel his wounds; his whole body ached. The Death Eaters hadn't left an inch unmarked, they had made sure of that.

He heard a grunt from somewhere, and muffled voices. This wasn't right. Death was quiet and peaceful, calm. It was an escape.  
He heard two voices, one was weak but obviously annoyed, the other worried and rushed.

He decided it didn't matter, he wouldn't hear anything soon enough.

But than it went even more wrong as he began shaking. No, he wasn't shaking. Someone was shaking _him_. He mumbled incoherently, fighting against the disturbance."Harry, wake up!"

That was funny, this voice sounded vaguely like Hermione. Only, it sounded like she was yelling through a thick fog.

There was a scuffle and a few feeble protests before a voice sounded right in his ear.

"Harry, come on,"

This was Severus. The quiet voice had never sounded so welcome. He must have made it, than. He must have made it to Heaven, or wherever he was going. It wasn't how he had imagined it. He'd never thought of it being so...dark.

"Harry, we need to go," Severus said urgently, tugging at his restraints.

These words registered with Harry more than the last. _Go_. He'd never heard a word sound better than that simple syllable. How nice it would be.

He heard a restless sigh and a muttered 'Relashio'. The word was familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he should know what that meant.

He didn't have much time to think it over, however, as he started to fall. He opened his eyes weakly as he was caught by frail arms, the figure buckling slightly beneath him.

Severus had caught Harry as his restraints were broken, but he had been tortured as well, even if he wasn't as bad off and he couldn't support the weight.

"Hermione," he managed to call, voice strained.

She ran over, helping keep both of them up. At that moment, Ron opened the door and flew down the stairs.

"Thank god, you're back. Did you get him?" Hermione breathed as Ron came over and Harry's unbroken arm over his shoulder, grunting as he took on almost all of Harry's diminished weight.

"I got Macnair. Dolohov got away, but he was headed straight towards the others," Ron said as they began to move towards the stairs.  
Hermione lent Severus her arm, and helped him limp his way across the room.

"Oh, and sir, Macnair had your wands," Ron said, pausing and taking two wands out of his pocket, and handing them to Snape. "Could you hold on to Harry's too?"

Snape nodded, taking them both, slightly surprised to find them intact.

They made their way slowly up the stairs, and emerged into a large dining hall.

"Wait, is this...?" Severus asked, looking around, trying to figure out why his surroundings looked so familiar.

"Greyback's Estate," Ron spat, as if disgusted. "The last place you'd expect him to be," He sounded as if he meant _'The last place I thought he'd be'_. He was blaming himself, Snape realized.

"Let's just get out," Severus said urgently.

"Hear, hear," Harry mumbled.

"Coming around there, mate?" Ron asked, grinning in relief.

Harry grunted, but kept walking.

"Hang in there, I'll get you out of here," Ron promised. He would do right by his friend now if it was the last thing he did. He could never forgive himself for how long it had taken the Order to get their act together and rescue him.

"Sev'rus," Harry muttered, sounding worried.

"I'm right here," Severus called as loud as he could.

Harry nodded and fell silent again, not having enough energy to keep talking.

His nerves had been tense with the need to stay awake, and when he had finally fallen asleep he had been smacked awake, if not worse.

He tried to instill that sense of fear in himself again, to keep him here, in the present, until he had gotten out. But having Ron and Hermione here, and knowing the Order was fighting nearby, he could only relax in relief.

"Hermione," Ron said meaningfully.

She instantly threw up a shield charm around them all. "Stay close," she said in hushed tones.

Harry could hear the sounds of battle coming from around the corner, and that jarred him into awareness.

"Severus, my wand," Harry said, voice suddenly alert and pointed.

"Let's just focus on getting out alive and than maybe-"

"Snape. My wand," he said, more forcefully, turning to pin a glare on the Potions Master.

Snape could see the determination and fight that had returned to his eyes, and he knew Harry was set on getting out, and getting out alive. He sighed and reluctantly handed it over.

"We need to be quick," Ron said, easing Harry against a wall so that he could look out over the fighting.

Snape watched as Harry cast a numbing spell over himself so that he could no longer feel his wounds. He stood up straighter, all pain from his broken ankles gone.

"Harry, that doesn't fix your ailments in any way," Snape said sternly.

"I know, but we wanna get out of here don't we? You may be able to walk at a normal pace, but I can't. It may not help in the long run, but I'd rather be healing than dead," he said bluntly, turning to face Ron.

"Prat," Snape muttered, limping closer to the trio.

"Stay close to Hermione, take down who you can but just focus on getting out of here," Ron instructed.

Harry nodded determinedly and they set off. As soon as they rounded the corner, bright lights and harsh cries assaulted their ears.

Bodies were already amassed around the room, and Harry was pleased to see most of them bore the Dark Mark.

They moved swiftly between the bodies, Ron casting spells like rapid fire. Harry kicked the body of a stunned Death Eater aside, stepping on his wand and snapping it in two in the process.

Spells hit the shield repeatedly, and Hermione was breathing heavily between the effort of running through the throng of fighting and keeping the shield intact around them.

Severus was losing speed, his injuries catching up to him. He found himself falling away from the three younger wizards, and despair welled in his chest. He had let himself hope, and now he was paying the price. He had gone for so long without such emotions, and half a year with Harry bloody Potter and he couldn't help but feel.

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and stopped running, looking around as if someone were calling his name.

His eyes landed on Severus, and he smiled his best crooked smile as he leaned over to take his hand.

"Didn't think I'd forget you now, did you?" he asked, breathless.

"Better not," Snape growled back, letting Harry take some of his weight as they raced towards the door.

A spell shot from the end of Dolohov's wand so powerful, Hermione's shield crumbled underneath it.

"Ron!" she shrieked, panicked.

"Stupefy!" Ron shouted, knocking the Death Eater back into the wall so hard, he fell, slumped to the floor.

"Protego!" Severus yelled quickly, seeing a smiling Yaxley taking aim at Harry. Snape wasn't about to let him die now.

A knockback spell hit him square in the chest, wiping the grin off his face. Suddenly, Ginny was standing in his place, Malfoy at her back, firing off Unforgivables. Snape smirked at how purely Slytherin Malfoy remained after switching sides. "Go!" Ginny shouted, pointing frantically to the open door on her right.

Snape gripped Harry's hand tighter as the young man sped up, racing to the double doors in front of them.

When they made it through, they were in what once was a grand foyer. It had been reduced to rubble and crumbling walls. There were a few bodies lying on the ground, but no one stopped to inspect which side the casualties fell on. They would find out soon enough.

"There are Disapparition Wards in a fifty mile radius," Ron yelled back at them, never slowing down as he got out into the yard.

"In case they try to run," Hermione explained. "There are Order members all along the perimeter. We just need to find one so they can let us through,"

They ran farther, slowing down slightly once the estate was out of sight.

They finally came upon Shacklebolt, who looked down when he saw Snape and Harry approach him.

"No time to be embarrassed, you can kiss and make up later. Just get us through the wards. Now." Ron panted.

Kingsley nodded, and Ron grabbed hold of Hermione and Harry, effectively linking them all together and disapparated them to the Burrow.

When they landed, Harry's legs fell out from underneath him. He was magically drained and his adrenaline and numbing spell had worn off. His injuries were even worse than they had been when Hermione and Ron bad released him.

He fell unconscious, but before he could hit the ground, he was in Snape's arms. The added weight proved too much for Severus, and as his knees buckled he gently lowered Harry to the ground, never letting him out of his arms.

"Get him inside," he heard Ron tell someone, and instantly several sets of hands worked to pick the pair up, but Severus' glance never strayed from Harry's pale face, and he never relinquished his hold on the boy.

Snape grinned; they were _safe_.


	16. Chapter 16

Severus hadn't let go of Harry until they were both taken inside and upstairs, into the biggest bedroom the Burrow contained.

He laid him gently onto the bed, before climbing in beside him and promptly falling asleep.

The room had been filled with Healers, working over them as the two men slept side by side.

 **x X x  
**  
The atmosphere around the table was almost suspenseful. Only half of the Order had showed up for this meeting, and an almost awkward silence pervaded the air. The raid on the only known remaining Death Eater camp had been a wild success, that was undeniable. But no one wanted to know at what price it had come.

"Did we get everyone? Hagrid asked the table, reluctantly starting the meeting.

"Whoever wasn't taken in from the fighting was caught by the guards," Kingsley reported, a faint smile to his lips.

Neville nodded, looking somber.

Silence fell heavily upon them again as they all looked everywhere but each other.

"And our losses?" McGonagall asked quietly.

"Percy," Cho Chang whispered, explaining why none of the Weasleys had made it to Grimmauld Place.

"Hannah. Abbot," Luna murmured, grabbing Neville's hand and squeezing it.

"The Patil twins are missing," Professor Flitwick said.

"They were taken down by Dolohov, before we got him," McGonagall supplied, wiping at the corner of her eyes with an off white handkerchief.

"And Dean Thomas," Lee Jordan finished.

They all sat gravely, mourning the loss of their fellow members.

"Harry and Snape?" Hagrid asked gruffly.

"Asleep," McGonagall answered.

"They were put into a magically induced medical coma until their more severe injuries heal," Luna expanded, looking at Neville, who sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

"They'll be asleep for roughly two weeks. They had extensive wounds to over eighty five percent of their bodies. Personal Healers will be with them at all times," he explained, setting everyone at ease.

"What happened down there?" Cho whispered, her voice breaking on the verge of tears.

"We'll have to wait until they wake up, now won't we?" Lee said, voice bitter.  
None of them wanted to think about what the two men had endured. They all felt guilt-ridden. After everything Harry and Severus had done for all of the magical world; after everything they had seen, the trials they had been put through, no one had wanted to bear witness to any more hardships on either of them. But they had only gotten to enjoy two and a half years of a stress-free life, if you could call it that.

Harry could barely go out in public without being made into a spectacle by the masses, often having to construct a strong glamour just to get to the grocery store.

And six months ago, they had been stuck with the last person either ever wanted to see again.

No. No one wanted to know what had happened in that basement. But no one would be able to stop from asking, either.

 **x X x**

 ****Severus woke late one night fifteen days later, groaning and rubbing his head. He opened his eyes groggily, trying to figure out where he was. He looked to his left and saw a sleeping Harry Potter. He was covered in scrapes and bruises, a black eye and a split lip, but the dark circles had disappeared from under his eyes. His chest no longer sported deep gashes, but faint pink lines. He had a blanket drawn over him from the waist down, and Severus sighed in relief. They really were safe.

When he turned back, he found a young man leaning over him, waving his wand haphazardly over his body.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Snaps growled out, the hoarse edge to his voice from sleeping for so long adding to the perceived level of danger.

The Healer swallowed and smiled nervously, hand wavering on his wand.

"Just some basic diagnostic spells," he said, trying to sound as polite and cheerful as he could.

Snape lifted an eyebrow.

"Sir," the young man added hastily.

"Go away," Snape rasped, already fed up with him.

"But sir, you really should-"

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself," he snapped, "Now _go_ ,"

The young Healer looked as if he wanted to argue, but thought better of it and with one more glance at Snape he turned tail and ran back out the door. Severus smirked, and took toll over his own injuries.

Whoever had taken care of him these past weeks had done an acceptable job, he decided. He was sore, as he had suspected, and the minor scrapes and bruises were still prominent all over his body, but he vaguely remembered a Healer explaining to him that they were focusing on all of his more serious injuries, as the smaller were not, and would not become, life threatening. All in all, he had dealt with far worse and with far less help.

"Six months with me and you haven't even softened an inch, have you?" Harry whispered weakly from beside him.

"You give yourself too much credit," Snape mumbled, turning to inspect Harry once more now that he was awake. His eyes were clear, if a little tired, and his breathing remained soft and even.

"Git," Harry muttered, turning to the night table to pick up his glasses.

"Brat," Snape retorted, trying to hide his relief at Harry's wellbeing.

"You've been awake less than five minutes and you've already sent Brian running?" Ron's voice preceded him into the room.

"Oi, it wasn't me," Harry defended, sending a pointed glare at Severus while managing to still sound slightly taken aback besides the dryness in his mouth.

"Oh, hey professor," Ron said, slightly sheepish, "It's a shame though," he continued, seemingly unphased , "I think 'Mione rather fancied him."

 _"Ronald!"_ The indignant cry came from just out of sight.

"Oops," he grinned, not looking regretful in the least.

"Harry! You're up!" Hermione said as she bounced into the room, punching Ron's arm on the way by.

"Shouldn't I be?" He asked, slightly befuddled.

"I'm sure. Your injuries were just... more extensive than Severus'. We figured you may be out a little longer is all," she explained, gently sitting by his feet.

"I imagine he will need more additional rest than I," Snape conceded silkily, looking sideways over at Harry. "You look terrible," he sneered half-heartedly.

"Thanks, Sev. Always the charmer," Harry rolled his eyes, "I do feel absolutely beat though, having a hard time waking up."

"Sleep as much as you need, mate. Doubt mum will let you outta bed any time soon anyway. Remember last time?" Ron grimaced.

"Yeah," Harry chuckled, wincing slightly at the pain in his chest. He must have some still healing bones.

"I reckon bed rest doesn't sound too bad this time around," Ron guessed, voice gentle.

Harry could tell the couple was trying to be as light-hearted as possible. Harry could only imagine what had happened on this end, but for the life of him, he couldn't muster up the energy to care right at this moment. He let their thin facade placate him for now, until he absolutely had to know.

"Not at all," he grinned back.

Ron and Hermione smiled.

"Same goes for you, sir," Hermione said seriously, turning to Severus.

He snorted, "I am not so rash as to compromise my healing for the sake of _rebellion_ ,"

All three Gryffindors rolled their eyes, and Harry even shoved Snape playfully against his shoulder. Severus was surprised how little force was put behind the movement, and a look of worry crossed his face for an instant, but none of the trio noticed.

"I think I'm gonna have to go back to sleep, sorry guys," Harry said, stifling a yawn behind his hand.

"Of course, we'll let you be, mate," Ron said instantly.

"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione said gently, squeezing his feet.

They watched silently as Harry drifted off again.

"Mum'll want help with dinner," Ron said, turning towards the door.

"I'll be down in a second," Hermione promised.

Ron hesitated, than shrugged, deciding it better not to question his wife.

As soon as she was sure he was out of earshot, she turned back to Severus, the easy smile gone from her face.

"You know why he went, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"Why he went to you, so recklessly?" her eyes were urging him to understand, but he hadn't the faintest idea what.

"Because he's so _bloody_ Gryffindor?" Snape snapped, not in the mood for games.

Hermione laughed humorlessly. "There's always a reason when he's reckless, you know. He doesn't think about himself when someone he l-" she looked up suddenly, as if she had said too much, "When someone else is in danger," she finished, looking annoyed, like that wasn't what she had wanted to say.

"He rushes in because he's always so afraid for the other person, that he doesn't care what happens to himself," she smiled appreciatively at Harry's sleeping form, "Yes. I guess you could chalk it up to him being a Gryffindor. But I think it's just...Harry,

"Anyway. I never expected him to do that, you know," she continued, as if discussing the weather. "Rush in to save the evil Potions Master, with no regards to his own safety. But maybe _that's_ what's different. Maybe he doesn't see you that way anymore," she said, the urgent look back in her eyes, pleading with him to understand. "Every other time..." she sighed, "He's gone after Ron and I, Ginny, Dumbledore, Sirius..." she trailed off.

"What is the point of this?" Snape asked, unable to muster the venom to add to his voice. It came out shaky and unsure, something he didn't like at all. He cleared his throat once.

"You know why he went, Professor. I know you do," this time it wasn't a question.

She looked at him regretfully, as if there was something she longed to tell him but couldn't. Finally, she exhaled heavily and stood up.

"Do look after him, I'm afraid you may be the only one he will allow to,"

And with that, she was gone.

He mulled over her words as he gently removed the glasses from the sleeping boy. His hair was considerably shorter, but than again, Severus' own had been cut incredibly short as well. The Healers had found them in such a deplorable state, they were unable to do anything about the knots, mites, and dried blood and fluids, let alone be able to get to the wounds underneath. They had decided to simply hack it all off. It was just as well, he would wait for it to grow back on its own.Severus wondered idly who had found and repaired the boys glasses, or if they were a new pair altogether.

 _'You know why he went, Professor. I know you do,'_

Her words echoed in his head. He knew he should be able to understand her implications, but he couldn't quite grasp them. It was like his mind was blocking them from him, constructing a wall to keep his own thoughts out.

He sighed in frustration, running a hand over his short hair. He would have to get used to that. No doubt Harry's would be regrown and unruly by morning, now that he was awake.

He looked intently at the sleeping face. Even through the bruised skin, he looked peaceful. Severus may dare say he even looked a bit happy, though he couldn't understand why.

It would be just like him to disregard his own ailments and be happy that everyone else was doing okay.

But no one else had been down there, with him. No one had been hurt like he had. No one suffered the lasting injuries and anguish that Harry did.

No one but Severus.

Could he be happy just because Severus was okay?

No, the Gryffindor might think he had grown to care about Snape, but it was nothing more than an annoying habit bred out of extenuating circumstances, surely. You stick Harry Potter in a house with one person for six months, and his hero complex would certainly kick in.

 _'He's gone after Ron and I, Ginny, Dumbledore, Sirius...'_

It was easy enough to understand Harry's motives for rushing to their sides. They were his family. He loved them.

Snape stopped cold. _He loved them._ Was Granger really going so far as to say that Harry...

No, that was simply obtuse. He had given Harry no reason to love him, and he certainly couldn't love him back.

Standing in line at Flourish and Blott's popped into his head, and he couldn't help but be thankful that the only person in the room was dead asleep as a very uncharacteristic blush crept into his cheeks.

He thought back to how he had fought for Harry's safety over the past six months. He had done it for his vow; for himself. He was a selfish creature, he wouldn't waste his time denying it; but a little voice nagged at the back of his head.

 _Were you protecting him when you danced? And when you sat by the lake?_

He cursed the Granger girl silently. How dare she do this to him?

What did she know that she wasn't saying?

And why did he care so much?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me long enough, I know I know.

They sat awkwardly cramped into the small bedroom where Severus and Harry were staying. Ron had suggested getting Harry up and around, for just a little while, and having the meeting downstairs at the table. But at Severus' rather nasty arguments, it was given up and everyone crowded into the already cramped room.

The few Order members looked around at each other, not knowing exactly where to start, and still not wanting to look at the two men who had been so brutally tortured. Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, Ginny, Draco, Neville, Luna and Molly and Arthur Weasley were all gathered around the bed.

"Well, what took _two weeks_?" Snape spat out, turning an accusing glare on all of them. He had recovered almost fully in the week since he had awoken, and everyone was painfully aware of that fact. He had grown even more sarcastic and impatient than they had ever seen him. Hermione smiled sadly whenever his temper flared, but everyone else grumbled and complained whenever he was out of earshot.

"Severus, please. It's not like we didn't try," Minerva started, voice shaking slightly, pleading with him.

"I don't recall saying that you didn't," he said flippantly, "but that is not what I asked,"

"Me and 'Mione got in on a Thursday, with the cloak," Ron started, a blush creeping up his neck as he stared at his shoes, "but we had orders- we were supposed to-"

"You were there? You were there and just sat? Did nothing? Watched?" Severus growled, voice dangerously low, throwing the words out.

Ron flinched at every word as if Snape were physically striking him, and Hermione looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Severus," Harry spoke for the first time, voice soft. The bruises from strong hands wrapped around his throat were still visible, but had dulled to light browns, instead of the gruesome yellows and purples he had arrived with, "let them explain," he reasoned.

Severus glared at all of them in turn, but quieted. There wasn't much he hadn't granted Harry the past week.

"We had orders," Ron continued, somewhat shakily, "Hermione and I were to get in with the Invisibility Cloak and find you. It took us three days just to track you down to the right place, with all the charms he had in place. But then we ended up camped outside the house for four days before we could even follow someone in,"

"Once we were in the house, It was difficult to move around to find you both," Hermione went on softly, placing a hand on Ron's arm to calm him. "There were people everywhere. We were told to take down Greyback before we did anything else, since he was practically the only thing keeping them all together. But we didn't want to take him down until we knew where you were. If we killed him, they could easily have murdered you both while we were looking," she explained, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at the two men before her.  
Severus said nothing, but his glare had softened somewhat into a scowl, and he crossed his arms. Harry nodded to her to go on.

"It took us a day to find you once we were inside. Once we were down there, I tried to protect you as much as I could, take at least some of the pain away. But if they knew we were there-" her voice cracked, and she looked down. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered, a single tear escaping her eye.

"I understand," Harry said, somewhat stiffly. When she looked up at him, however, his eyes were soft and he smiled slightly. "Please, just finish,"

Ron took a deep breath, looking around at all the Order members before settling his gaze onto Harry. "It's true, mate. We tried to help as much as we could, but if they knew we were there it would've ruined the whole operation. It took longer than we thought for Greyback to go down and...visit you two," he finished lamely, not wanting to rehash the details of what he had witnessed down in the dungeon.

"And well, you know the rest," he added, for the benefit of the other Order members who _hadn't_ been there.

Harry nodded, thinking over what he had been told. He knew that they had done all they could. He supposed he shouldn't he angry at them for what had happened. But than who was he supposed to be angry at?

"Why didn't one of you find Greyback, while the other stayed with us?" Snape asked caustically.

"Only one Invisibility Cloak," Harry muttered, "Where is that, by the way? Do you have it?"

"Of course!" Hermione said quickly, "We put it back with your other things already,"

He nodded again, growing silent once more.

"The bond..." McGonagall started hesitantly.

"Is broken," Snape said, strong but quiet. For the first time he looked to his lap, not meeting anyone's eyes. When he looked up, he seemed to be looking past everyone. "When Greyback was killed, the vow was broken instantly, and any consequences that would have come from our imprisonment died with it," he finished, voice back to its usual tone, complete with snark and sarcasm.

"Consequences?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. Whether we see it or not, I'm sure there was _something_ we both could have done to help the other," Snape said darkly, "The vow would not have taken circumstance into account, and as soon as we were safe again it would have most likely began to punish us in some way,"

"The vow wasn't intended to punish, though," Minerva reasoned, "Quite the opposite,"

"Indeed." Snape agreed.

"If we had been punished, we would want to try harder next time, right?" Harry guessed, glancing over at Severus.

"Correct," Snape conceded with a sharp nod, looking at Harry for the first time. Their eyes met and Snape had a hard time looking away again.

He coughed once, shaking his head, before plowing onward; a distraction.

"Well, at what cost?" he asked, a little too harshly.

Harry flinched slightly; this was the part he had been dreading, no matter how much he needed to know. He inched closer to Snape, without seeming to notice he had done it. Severus didn't miss the movement.

"We lost five of our own. A good outcome in light of things, but devastating losses nonetheless," Neville said quietly, no one quite able to meet each others eyes.

Tears welled in the Weasley's eyes, and Hermione took Ron's hand tightly within her own. Harry's heart constricted as he waited to hear which five they had lost. But no one seemed eager to speak up.

"Well?" he prompted quietly, wishing to get this part over and done with.

Luna took a deep breath before casting her dreamy blue gaze on him. "The Patil twins, Dean Thomas, Hannah," she trailed off, looking at Molly, who had turned into Arthur and was gripping his shirt tightly, "and Percy," she added, barely audible. The quiet in the room was so complete that no one missed what she said.

"Excuse me," Molly choked out as she turned and left. They could hear her choked sobs as she retreated downstairs.

Ron and Arthur exchanged glances, before nodding once to Harry and following after her.

Harry sat in numb silence, too horrified to speak. He could feel the pitying stares aimed in his direction, but no one seemed to know quite what to say. He looked at Severus, who was watching him closely.

"I need..." he started, voice barely audible. Only Snape could hear how his voice hitched and broke.

Snape nodded once and turned to pin a glare on the rest of the room.

"Out," he ordered, harsher than necessary. He didn't care if he was being crude or hateful. It had worked.

A silence settled upon the two men as the Order filed out. Snape wasn't sure how to conduct himself around Harry presently, especially in his current state.

Harry had rolled away from him, hugging his pillow. A single sniffle betrayed him.

"It's not your fault," Snape said quietly, unsure of how to provide comfort.

He reached a hand out and laid it hesitantly on Harry's shoulder. He could feel the boy shaking.

"I know," came the soft answer. "But that doesn't make it any better. They're still gone,"

"And you're still blaming yourself," Snape said, a little bitterly.

"Aren't you?" Harry accused, turning over and staring at him. Snape let his hand fall back to the bed as Harry moved.

"I have far more to be guilty about," Snape said, trying to quell the fiery anguish in Harry's eyes.

Harry snorted. "Hardly. You're thrown into impossible situations; always asked too much by people that you don't even like. And you do it. There's no room for guilt in that,"

"Nor is there in saving people you don't even _know_ ," Severus argued. "Either way," he said quickly, looking to end this argument. "What's done is done. They knew what they were doing, and they thought it worth it. It was an....admirable way to go," he said. His tongue played over the words, unused to giving anyone compliments.

"Yeah," Harry sighed, giving up. Snape could tell he was still beating himself up over it.

"Get some rest. It won't do either of us any good if you keel over from exhaustion," he said, voice strict, implying he was not to be argued with.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, removing his glasses and putting them on the table. He rolled back over to face Snape.

"Goodnight," he said, somewhat reserved, looking at Severus. He had been abnormally clingy as of late, and Snape had attributed it to the fact that he was the only one Harry had been exposed to in quite some time; a sort of post traumatic stress disorder. Or was it something else entirely? He only knew that the boy would not be able to get any sort of sleep if he were not by his side.

Snape sighed again. "Goodnight, Harry. I'll be here when you wake up," he assured him.

A small smile graced Harry's lips as he fell asleep.

Snape shook his head, not quite sure how he felt, either.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry came to slowly, with sounds and light coming to him in bursts. He rolled over, groaning at the pain it still caused him. He stretched lazily, careful not to anger any of his already complaining limbs.

His reaching fingers came into contact with a soft fabric.

"Please, do remove yourself," Snape muttered into the quiet of the room.

Harry opened his eyes, and looked at the somewhat blurry face to his right. The onyx eyes were focused on the Prophet held aloft before them.

"G'morning Sev'rus," Harry mumbled sleepily, grinning lopsidedly.

A pointed glance down at the hand still left on his chest and a frustrated sigh, and Severus had put down his morning paper and shifted slightly to face him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked intensely, scrutinizing his face and color.

"Fine," Harry said lightly, removing his hand and twisting around to grab his glasses off the table next to him. Turning back as he placed them on his face, he saw a raised eyebrow over a skeptical expression come into focus. "Really!" he insisted, raising his hands as if in surrender.

Snape made a noise in the back of his throat and continued to stare at him. Harry took the time to study the older man. He looked worn and tired, with slight purple bags forming under his eyes. He had a few bruises and a slight cut under his left eye, but all in all, he was, for the most part, healed.

"You haven't been sleeping," Harry accused, squinting slightly at him.

"I've been sleeping fine," Snape said shortly, turning back to the door as Hermione came through.

Harry kept his gaze locked on Severus, but as the man kept his eyes on Hermione, he scowled slightly and gave up for now.

"Hey, Hermione," he greeted.

"Hi! I'm glad you're both awake now, we've been making breakfast. You're hungry, right? Of course you are, I'll bring it right up!" She turned on her heel and left as quickly as she had arrived.

"Does she ever take a breath?" Harry muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes behind his glasses.  
> "It appears to be a rare occasion," Snape agreed offhandedly. "She's attempting to make up for the time she left you in the dungeon," he added quietly.

"Us," Harry muttered distractedly, concentrating on a spot on the wall in front of him. "Left _us_ in the dungeon,"

As Severus was thinking over the implications of Harry's correction, Hermione bounced back in, followed by a line of floating dishes. They had prepared everything in the house, it seemed: pancakes, grits, several different variations of eggs, sausage, bacon, waffles, biscuits and gravy, and a bowl of mixed fruit.

"If you need anything, just call," she instructed, nodding seriously at them both.

Harry was still staring off at the wall, appearing not to have heard a word of it.

"Yes, thank you," Severus said quickly, trying to make up for the awkward moment that had passed in Harry's silence.

Hermione smiled fleetingly, casting a quick glance at Harry before turning to leave again.

Severus arranged the plates before them with a quick spell, before turning back to Harry.

"Harry?" he asked, laying a hand lightly against his shoulder.

Harry started at the touch, looking slightly flustered. Hid gaze travelled over the food as if he hadn't seen it yet, before he hazarded a glance at Snape. And blushed. Severus raised an eyebrow, but Harry just started piling food onto his plate.

Severus shook his head. They had been confined to bed rest for about a month now, only venturing out once or twice a week to take a quick walk outside. Even then, Harry was shaky and nervous, sticking close to Snape's side.

He had had no more conversations with Granger- Weasley now, he supposed- but she kept sending pointed glances between him and Harry every time the boy did something around him. It was infuriating, at the least.

But on more than one occasion she had him second-guessing not only Potter, but himself as well. Could they possibly have grown to not only stand each other, but... to care? It was ludicrous, absolute hogwash. But as much as he tried to deny it, he felt a flutter in his chest at the idea.

"Damn it all," he grumbled, shoving his plate of food away from him, having lost his appetite.

"Hmm?" Harry mumbled around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

Snape lifted his lip slightly in disgust before flipping the covers off his legs. "Excuse me,"

"What?" Harry swallowed quickly, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. _Or a stag,_ he mused. He scowled, stopping any thought about the boy. "Bathroom," he said simply, "I'll be back shortly,"

Harry nodded warily, turning back to his food.

Snape slipped out of the room and down the hall, finding it gloriously unoccupied. He closed the door behind him and leaned on it, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath.

The little prat. He loved him, didn't he? There was no other explanation for it.

That cryptic talk with Hermione, the furtive glances, even the way Harry had been acting around him, never letting him out of his sight, staring when he thought Severus to be asleep. He was so overly attentive. The boy loved him, and he had told Weasley's wife. She must think he loved him back, then. That notion was even more ridiculous than the last.

He couldn't love Harry bloody Potter. It was against his very nature. It was against his nature to love at all.

But here he was, trying to deny himself. He moved to stand squarely in front of the mirror, knuckles white from gripping the edge of the sink as he bared his teeth as his pale reflection.

Half a year with a Gryffindor and he was already turning into spineless mush. He could only imagine what the rest of his life would do to him.

He stared, shocked, into the mirror. He ran a hand over his short hair, exhaling sharply. He was not just thinking about spending the rest of his life with the boy. Not by any means.

He cursed silently, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. He could feel a head ache coming on.

He sighed defeatedly and ran cold water over his hands, splashing it up onto his face.

He loved the brat. He had loved him since the day Harry had asked him for a fire pit, if not before. He couldn't begin to say why, but he knew it to be true. A big batch of Amortentia would smell like nothing more than Harry Potter in the morning.

He looked into his eyes, no longer framed by his dark hair. He frowned slightly, coming back to reality.

It didn't matter; none of it. Hermione was wrong, and Harry was delusional. He was simply mistaking shared trauma for a bond. Nothing more. He wouldn't want Severus, and Snape was not a man to let himself hope.

He would go on as he always had: alone. It was better that way. For everyone involved.

He walked slowly back to the bedroom, opening the door softly and taking a shaky breath before entering. Harry still sat in his place to the right, except he had cleared away all the dishes.

"I hope you were through?" he asked, slightly guiltily.

"Yes. Thank you," Snape answered, slightly unhappy with how soft his words came out.

"Uh-huh," Harry murmured, looking at him as he crossed the room to 'his' side of the bed and climbed back in.

"What?" he spat, turning to look at Harry as he settled into the blankets.

"You've got something, just there..." Harry muttered, voice soft and gravelly. When had he grown into such a complete _man_? Before Snape could stop him, he was reaching forward and wiping a drop of water from the corner of his mouth, his finger lingering perhaps a second more than was necessary.

His heart thumped against his rib cage. What was Potter playing at? Harry smiled softly as he withdrew his hand.

Snape cleared his throat, and tried to pin the young man with a glare. He mustn't have succeeded however, as Harry soon chuckled deep in his chest.

"You ok?" he asked, worry lines forming on his forehead as he frowned slightly.

"Peachy," Severus deadpanned, earning a lopsided grin from Harry. The thin lips pulled up at the corners despite himself. Damn the boy. He rearranged his features back to normal before turning back to his paper.

"Now I hope you will find it in you to let me read. _In peace,_ " he reprimanded.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, picking up a very worn copy of _Seeker's Digest_ from the table next to the bed.  
 **  
**

**x X x**

 

The past week had gone by in lulls and bursts. One day, Severus was his normal self; crabby, condescending and more than a little bit sarcastic. But like a switch, he would flip to being quiet and reserved, seeming to ponder things beyond Harry. He had been acting off ever since he disappeared to the bathroom and had come back dripping wet. Harry didn't mind though, he simply liked being this close to Severus.

He wasn't sure what was in store for them next, so he planned on getting the most out of the time he had now.

This morning passed quietly, with barely more than a handful of words spoken between them. Severus read his morning _Prophet,_ as always, and Harry had finally retired his old copy of _Seeker's Digest_ for the new _Quidditch Monthly_.

It was like this that Hermione had found them, when she barged in the door with Ron ambling in after her, both with big smiles plastered on their faces.

"Good news," she chirped, alighting on the edge of the bed.

Snape flipped down the top half of his paper and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you've been sprung. Mum talked to the Healers this morning and you're free to go. Good as new," he smiled at Harry as he came to stand next to Hermione, pulling her into his side.

Harry watched the gesture with a small amount of jealousy.

Shaking his head quickly, he perked up. "That's great!" he enthused, turning to Severus. "We can go home," he smiled, reaching over and squeezing his arm slightly.

"I heard," Snape said, flinching slightly under the contact. But he didn't back away, Harry noticed, sending a flutter through his stomach.

"We've packed you both up," Hermione went on, grinning wickedly in Snape's direction, "All you have to do is get ready and go,"

"So we'll leave you to it," Ron said sheepishly, squeezing Hermione's shoulder as they both made to leave.

"Thank you both," Harry called as they disappeared out the door.

"Well," Severus said, turning slightly to face Harry. "Shall we?"

Harry's grin stretched slowly across his face, "Please," he agreed.

He stood and with a flick of his wand, both men were tidied, dressed in traveling cloaks and ready to go. Harry summoned their luggage and looked expectantly at Snape as he waited by the door.

"Eager, are we?" he asked, one elegant eyebrow raised, a smirk settling over his thin lips.

"Don't even _try_ and tell me you don't want out of here as well," Harry accused teasingly, offering his arm out to the older man.

Snape scoffed slightly in the back of his throat as he came to stand next to him.

"Of course I am, you bloody fool," he growled, taking the arm extended out to him and letting Harry apparate them away- apparate them _home._


	19. Chapter 19

"Potter!" Snape growled, coming to stand at the open sliding door, "What are you doing?"

The harsh winter months had passed by while they were at Greyback's and the Burrow, and the sun was beginning to warm up the day as it peaked in the sky.

"Just...sitting," he said serenely without opening his eyes. He was reclined in a chair, legs stretched before the small fire he had started in the pit. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his feet were bare against the concrete.

"You'll catch cold," Severus reprimanded.

"No, I won't. Have you even been outside, Sev?"

"Do not call me that," he growled.

"It's nice out," Harry went on, as if Severus hadn't said anything.

"Well, come inside. I want to discuss something," he tried, in his most polite tone.

Harry turned his head and squinted at him. " 'Bout what? Come _outside_ and we can talk," he smirked, closing his eyes and straightening his head again.

"I do not wish to conduct business outdoors," he said stonily.

"Business? What are you on about?"

Snape sighed, "I will be in my office should you decide to grow up,"

Harry grumbled, no doubt mocking him as he turned his back and retreated inside.

Harry didn't move until late that night, as the embers of the fire he had been staring into died, startling him from his thoughts. He looked around, surprised to find the sky completely dark, the first stars of the night beginning to show themselves. He sighed. The talk with Severus would have to wait until tomorrow.

He made his way inside, casting a hasty silencing charm over himself as the floor began to creak beneath his weight. He moved with ease throughout the house, gathering his things he had strewn all over. He dumped them on the desk in his room and changed, removing the silencing charm before going to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

As he lifted his head from the sink, a light coming from under Severus' door caught his eye. He walked over and knocked hesitantly. The other side of the door stayed silent.

Harry pushed the door open, much like he had the one other time he had ventured into Snape's room at night. This time, however, he cherished the picture before him.

The small light on the bedside table was still on, casting a warm glow about the room.

Snape was asleep already, wearing his light grey tee shirt and boxer shorts. Harry blushed, even though the older man had no idea he was there.

He had a book lying open to the left of his right hand, which had fallen close to the edge of the bed. Harry picked it up gently, closing it on its bookmark and putting it on the bedside table.

He looked back to the figure on the bed. The blankets had been kicked down towards his feet, and his skin was raised in goose flesh. He gently brought the blanket up so that it rested lightly around his waist, and Severus shifted slightly, hugging it closer to him. Harry smiled fondly down at him.

Tonight, his hair had been pulled loosely back at the nape of his neck with an elastic band, and strands had begun to work their way out and around his face. He reached forward slowly and tucked a stray hair behind his ear, fingers lingering down his cheekbone, caressing the pale, and surprisingly soft, skin. He trailed his index finger down the hooked nose, hardly daring to breathe. If he were to wake...

He sighed, turning from the bed. He clicked off the lamp, and before he knew what he was doing, bent down and pressed a small kiss to the man's forehead. He stood there, panic rooting him to the floor, holding his breath, afraid that he would surely wake this time.

However, he slept on, unaware of Harry's presence. He frowned, finally padding back to the comfort of his own bed.

A pale hand gripped the covers as black eyes snapped open into the darkness.

He let out a held breath, sure that Harry would have heard his erratically beating heart.

As he calmed his breathing, he stared up at the ceiling. It had taken all his will power not to reach up and grab the dark, shaggy hair and pull the boy to him.

He rolled over, grumbling. This had to stop.

 **x X x**

It had not been easy for Severus to come to this decision. He had thought long and hard, every night, over what path they should take; he should take, in regards to the newly aquired information regarding himself and Harry. They had been home a week, and Harry's behavior had not changed in the slightest. He still grinned slightly at Severus, and watched him while doing the most mundane tasks. He teased him, and touched him lightly, and it had to stop.

Severus couldn't handle knowing it wasn't really what the toddler felt, just what he _thought_ he felt. If he let it go any longer, he would surely indulge his darkest desire and play along, and that could only end with him realizing that which Severus had clearly known all along; he didn't love him, he never had. He never could.

He was sure the boy would come up with some excuse; an 'it's not crazy' or an 'I really do love you', but even if that were the case, he deserved more than a greasy old bat. And that was the truth of it, wasn't it?

Severus was never certain of the boy's feelings, just certain of Harry himself. Certain that he could do much, much better. And Snape would not be the one to make him settle; to hold him back.

What he wasn't sure of, however, was how to make Harry believe him; how to make him leave. He was nothing if not stubborn. But he had to do it, he had to convince Harry that he didn't want Severus...or that Snape didn't want him.

He steeled himself as Harry knocked lightly on his cracked office door.

"Come in," he called, voice softer than he would have liked. He cleared his throat gruffly as Harry strolled in.

"What's up?" he asked, not quite meeting Snape's eyes. A soft kiss in the dark flashed before his eyes, and he held his breath, fighting to keep his cool.

"Sit," he instructed, pointing to the chair in front of the fire, to his left. "We need to talk,"

"Er...okay," Harry said, settling into the dark leather recliner and finally setting his eyes upon Snape, "About what?"

"Our situation," Snape bit out. This would be ten times harder now that he was right there in front of him. Better be short and relatively painless (or so he hoped), like ripping off a band aid.

"Our...situation?" he queried, quite obviously not following along.

"Yes. Now that the bond is broken, we should find alternate arrangements. Now, I can buy out your half of the house, if you wish, or vise versa. I still have my place in Muggle London. Or we could sell and split the prof-"

"Wait- you want to...move out?" Harry asked, looking taken aback.

"Don't you?" Snape asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, no," Harry admitted, cheeks blushing slightly. Snape cursed him silently, looking away. He looked so hurt, so innocent and vulnerable.

"And why ever not? Pray tell," Snape prodded, trying to sound as condescending as possible. He was rather disappointed with the result. He had lost his touch where Potter was concerned.

"I just...I- look, you know already, ok? I like being with you, living with you. I just- I thought..." he looked down, a slight shake coming into his voice.

Snape swallowed hard as teary green eyes met his. "I just thought that- after all this time, everything we've been through...the wedding, Flourish and Blotts, Greyback... I thought..."

"Thought what? That I'd fallen for the Boy Who Lived...Again?" he let loose a single, humorless laugh, not daring to look up at him again.

"No," Harry said, voice stronger. "No, I don't know what you're doing but you need to stop," he said, standing.

"Now listen, Potter-" he growled, standing, but Harry cut him off, reaching forward and pulling him into a kiss.

It was blissfully warm and urgent, the younger man trying to portray everything he felt with his lips, his tongue as it danced along the edge of Snape's thin lips.

Snape closed his eyes for a brief moment, bringing his hands up to the muscled chest pushed against his. He splayed his fingers, palms down, against the soft cotton crew neck, pushing him away.

"Don't ever do that again," he growled. He supposed Harry took that as him not enjoying their sudden embrace. Let him, it was easier than the reality of Snape liking it all too much.

"But-" Harry looked shocked, as if he had been sure that that would have worked.

"What? You weren't hoping for me to suddenly swoon and admit my undying love, certainly," he said harshly. Harry said nothing. "Or maybe you were expecting me to fess up to my long felt need to shag you into a wall?" he finished bitterly, barking out a cruel laugh.

He half-hoped Harry would, for the first time in his life, grow some sort of intuition and realize that that was _exactly_ what Snape wished to tell him. Were he not so damaged and hardened by the life he had been dealt, he might have tried to stop the boy as he silently turned and walked out of their house; out of his life.

 _ **"** I never want to see you unhappy  
I thought you'd want the same for me  
Goodbye my almost lover;  
Goodbye my almost dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
Can't you just let me be?  
So long my luckless romance  
My back is turned on you  
Should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do"_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry how this took so long to get out! :x I will try to get the next one to you much sooner!

"Harry, come on," Hermione pleaded, sitting lightly on the edge of his bed.

No answer came, green eyes still staring at the blank wall.

"Harry, please. At least talk to me before I have to go to work," she placed a small hand on his nearest calf.

He kicked away half-heartedly. "Just go," he said quietly, "I'll be fine,"

"Harry," she sighed, sounding as if she were about to cry.

"Hermione," he leveled, "It's ok. I was gonna do some shopping today anyway. No food," he mumbled, turning to look at her and trying a valiant half smile. He looked worn and tired, and sad beyond his years and the small smile made Hermione want to cry.

"I'll be back after work," she promised.

"That's not necessary,"

She shrugged as she got up, "Oh well," she smiled at him fleetingly, feeling anything but happy.

As she left, he turned back to the wall and let the smile fade from his face.

It had been about a month since he left the house they had shared. He had gone to the Burrow, anguished and alone. He had stayed there for a week, before an owl came in the mail with a rather impersonal note from Severus, stating that the money he was owed for his half of the house was already deposited into his Gringott's account. It didn't matter, Harry didn't want to go back to that house, anyway.

Ron and Hermione had gone to retrieve his things, and helped him move into his new home in Hogsmeade, far away from the cottage that Snape now inhabited. He didn't ask about their brief time with the older man, and they didn't tell him. He didn't want to know just how well the bastard was getting on without him. He could picture that well enough on his own. He did hope he was doing okay, though.

Hermione came over every morning before work, and most evenings when she got off, but it was always the same. They didn't talk much, and she made sure he had food for dinner before flooing home and no doubt fretting over him to Ron. He felt slightly guilty, really. He should apologize to Ron sometime.

He sighed, rolling onto his back. He would need to get up and move on sooner or later. Today was just as good as any other, he supposed. At least it would help Ron and Hermione.

He placed his feet slowly on the floor as he sat up, the cold of the wood waking him slightly. He meandered towards the bathroom, dropping his clothes in piles along the way.

He smiled ruefully as he dropped his boxers, imagining the look on Snape's face when he had done the same before. He could almost hear the dark voice in his head _'Must you always be so careless?'_. He had looked back to see the man glowering, finger hooked into the waist of his jeans, holding them in the air. His smile faded as he turned now, eyes meeting only an empty room.

He shook his head, clearing the memory. It seemed so long ago now. He had grumbled and complained about privacy in his own room, but what he would give now to be back there, relentlessly goaded by Snape, he couldn't even say.

He chided himself silently. Why should he want to go back to someone who so blatantly didn't want him?

But that didn't make sense, either, did it?

He couldn't even explain it to himself, but there was something more. Snape had kissed him back as he had thrown himself on the man in Flourish and Blott's, hadn't he? Harry could even remember how he tasted, if he tried hard enough. He tasted like snow in the winter, and mint. And even when Harry kissed him the second time, no matter how much he pretended to be cross, he had started to kiss him back before he caught himself. Damn his self control. Damn _him_.

They were just words, weren't they? It would be just like the bastard to deny himself any pleasure at all in life. He would never give up this self-loathing, this debt he felt could never be repaid. What he couldn't see was that he had done so much more good than he ever did bad. He paid for his past tenfold, but still, it wasn't enough, was it? He was constantly berating himself, damning himself, denying himself any pleasure at all that he might come across, and for what? Harry had forgiven him everything the minute he had looked into the Pensieve. It might not have shown, but seven years worth of ridicule and hatred was an awful long habit to break. And then again, only recently had either of them shown their true feelings.

He had no doubt that his ex-Professor didn't hate him anymore. At least, he didn't before Harry had thrown himself at him.

He gave up trying to figure it out. No matter what the reason, he had been denied either way. Severus had made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with him, and that had hurt worse than anything. He had been crushed by the gentle push to his chest. Severus had done more than just push Harry's body away; he had pushed everything about him away, rejecting his advance in its entirety, and Harry was sure that Snape knew exactly that. Had planned for exacly that. But _why_?

He brushed angrily at the tears he suddenly found on his face and turned the faucet on hot, intent upon scorching away his emotions. He growled to himself and leveled his hands against the slick tile of the shower wall, letting the water rain over his skin. He screwed his face up against the heat, clenching his hands into fists against the wall. As the water grew colder, his stance relaxed, and he was glad to realize some semblance of calm had fallen over him.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to fetch a cup of coffee, meandering slowly through the hallway he still wasn't used to, trailing his fingers down the white paint. He reveled in the simple joy of being able to do what he wanted, with no one to reprimand him within his own home, although he felt slightly hollow at the same time. But he wasn't about to focus on that.

He decided he should probably get a job, if only to occupy his mind and pass the time. He couldn't very well stay inside and mope for the next ten years, however appealing that may be. He had always envisioned himself in a place of glory, or at least something meaningful; a world known seeker, or a top auror, even a professor-defense against the dark arts, or flying maybe. But he wouldn't go back to the school, he knew that much. Not now. But perhaps Honeydukes needed help, or the Three Broomsticks. He could even work for Aberforth at the Hog's Head. None of which sounded like something he would have thought to pursue for himself, but all sounding like a welcome respite from his current situation.

He began to rifle through his saved _Prophets_ , coming across more than one article that marred his face with disgust. Honestly, reporters these days were out of control. He threw all the articles pertaining to himself or his friends in a pile to burn later; he had needed to restock on kindling.

He came across an older issue, stopping dead at the bold black headline printed proudly across the page: **KNOWN TRAITOR SEEKS REDEMPTION**. His blood boiled as he stared at the sneering picture of his old professor. It took him a minute to figure out whether he was mad at the _Daily Prophet_ or at the solemn man avoiding his gaze in the picture beneath the headline. He settled on the _Prophet_ , as that was easier to understand.

He wouldn't stand for this. He couldn't let them tarnish the man's reputation any more than they already had. He deserved so much more than that. He deserved more than he would let himself believe, more than he would have anyone believe. He deserved everything.

Another single, angry tear fell down his face. He wiped it away roughly, glaring at the picture.

"I shouldn't care," he told the black and white image forcefully, "I should throw this away and never think of you again. I'd be better off for it," he paused, breathing slightly heavier than necessary as the black eyes still refused to meet his, "But _fuck_ , do I miss you," he sighed, the anger leaking out of his voice, leaving in its place a low melancholy. The Severus on the paper raised his eyes slowly to meet Harry's own. He scowled, if halfheartedly, and attempted a sneer. "I love you, you greasy git,"

The dark eyes in the picture looked down again, and Harry growled low in the back of his throat, flinging the paper off his table and across the room into the far wall in one motion. 

 _Coward_ , he seethed silently.

Even in print, he couldn't face Harry when it really mattered. He couldn't own up all he had done. He couldn't accept the fact that someone might want him, someone _good._ But more than that, he couldn't accept the fact that _he_ was good.

 Running a shaky hand through his hair, he squatted down to the floor, not trusting his legs to hold him. He had never been this out of control of his emotions before. When facing down death at the hands of the Dark Lord, he had been stoic and calm. Facing down a snarky sharp nosed git however, had him raging from one extreme to the next.

"I love you," he whispered.

He sat there for a second, trying to calm himself. He focused on breathing steadily as his shaking subsided. Looking up suddenly, he stood up tall, eyebrows knit together in a manner that was far too serious for his usually charismatic personality.

" _And goddammit,_ _you love me too_ ," he said to his empty hosue, determined.

He would prove it, if it were the last thing he ever did.

He would break that snarky bastard.

Severus Snape would tell him the truth.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long :x  
> I've just now gotten to the point where I'm relatively happy with it.
> 
> I'm sorry the html is messed up. I really don't know what my browser is doing.

He had watched on with sardonic smiles and a quick lip, as Granger and Weasley packed up all of Harry's things. If he wasn't sure this was better for them both in the long run, his weak hold on his self control might have slipped, and he would have thrown them out and waited until Harry came back.

But as it was, the boy was not coming back. He had seen to that. His emotions on the topic were irrelevant. He had dug his grave, now he would lay in it.

Ron had looked at him with disgust, a death glare that may have been intimidating on any other face. Snape returned it happily with his best sneer, the expression that was so easy to recall back to his features. The girl, however, had looked at him sadly, almost as if she felt sorry for him. What did she know? What did she think she knew? He couldn't handle her pitying glances, and instead, focused his energy on looking as disdainful as possible. Easy enough.

He slammed the door behind them as they left and hovered near the window until he heard the tell tale cracks of apparition. Grumbling, he went back to his room to grab a few Potions Journals.

As he began tearing through his room, he caught sight of an open door. Putting down his papers, he walked through the bathroom and out the open door at the other side.

He stood in the middle of Harry's empty room and sighed, uncharacteristically slouching and rubbing a tired hand over his forehead. He looked at the bed, covers still rumpled from the last night Harry had spent in them. The room felt insurmountably cold, and he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself.

He growled low in his throat, coming to his senses. Nonsense. It was just a room, after all. And what would he have done with any of the boys things? He closed both doors as he exited and went back to his work, but his mind was still firmly planted in the middle of the now barren room.  


  
x X x

He stayed in his house for weeks, never venturing farther than the fire pit in the back, and even those trips were seldom. He still couldn't fathom the draw the simple furnace held for Potter. It was dirty, the smoke caused him to cough near incessantly and it gave off a dismal heat. Excursions to the back patio usually left him frustrated and angry, as did most things in all actuality.

For the most part, he spent his time with distractions, often attempting to formulate new potions, which all, without exception, ended up in the trash next to his desk. After a few vain attempts at a cure for wizard's cold, he had moved on to writing his paper he wished to publish about the modified version of Belby's Wolfsbane potion. It had taken him years to brew it correctly, and years more to make it impervious to the nullifying effects of sugar. It seemed, however, that it would take him years more, to make his findings public. He had lost his focus for near everything, it seemed.

Late one night, as he sat twirling his quill between his long fingers, blank parchment on the desk in front of him, a knock came upon the front door.

He hesitated, looking up slowly. Could it be?

He was unaware of anyone that knew where he was currently residing, outside of Harry, of course, his friends, and a few choice members of the Order. But who would want to see him? And at this hour of night?

He got up and swiftly crossed the house to the foyer, throwing open the door with more force than he had intended. Standing in the dim light from his porch lamp, was Lucius Malfoy.

Snape's mood visibly darkened.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"Now, Sev, is that really any way to greet an old friend?" he smiled easily, straightening up and adjusting his grip on his cane.

"Don't fool yourself, Lucius. We haven't been friends for years,"

"Yes, well, that's not to say I don't still care about you," he said, striding into the house uninvited.

"Please, do come in," Snape muttered as he slammed the door, "Do tell, Lucius, how you came to know where I live?"

"I still have some connections, you see," he said nonchalantly.

Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Ginevra Weasley, through Draco," he sighed, laying his cane against the mantle of the fireplace and removing his black traveling gloves.

"Ah, of course. And to what do I owe this...pleasure?"

"Can't just drop in on an old friend?" As Severus crossed his arms and stood glaring, Malfoy kept going, "Very well. My son seems to be under the impression you are not doing your best, and asked me to make sure that that was indeed, not the case."

"I am fine, now, if you don't mind," he said, gesturing to the door.

Malfoy tutted, "Unable to muster up even a little hospitality? Nevermind; I can tell you haven't slept. While you've never been, exactly.... yes, well, you look tired, Severus."

"My sleeping patterns are of no concern to you," he said coldly.

"Perhaps not. Now tell me, you are glad to be rid of the child, are you not?" he looked to Severus, eyes dangerously neutral.

"Yes, of course," Snape said, after a seconds hesitation.

"Don't lie now, Severus," Lucius goaded. Snape stayed silent, eyes fixed on the far wall behind the blond.

"My god, you _miss_ him," Lucius laughed, "That's why you're holed up here, not sleeping. You miss the boy. Honestly, Severus, I thought your taste had improved somewhat after that filthy Mudblood of a mother he had in your first year. What a sorry excuse for a witch. And he's no better," he scoffed. " _You_ , of all people, should know that,"

Snape flinched, balling his fists, as anger bubbled into his throat.

"Out," he growled, voice dangerously low.

"Excuse me?"

"Get. Out." Snape took a step closer, standing what would have been uncomfortably close to the shorter man had he not been  
consumed by anger. "Now."

"As you wish," Malfoy said, recovering from his temporary shock and bowing sarcastically. He grabbed his cane and gloves and made toward the door.

" _So_ good to see you," he said, smiling as he departed.

Snape stomped over and slammed the door shut behind him, seething. How dare he.

He growled, turning his back on the door and pinching the bridge of his nose. He could already feel the headache forming.

He supposed he would have to strengthen the wards around the house in the morning. Or at the very least, add an exclusion ward.

The thought made him chuckle darkly. He'd love to see Malfoy's face as he came to _that_ realization.

  
x X x  


He was sitting in his dark wing-back, nursing a glass of scotch (his fourth if he were being honest), when a tap on the glass brought him out of his brooding.  
A familiar looking tawny owl was sitting quite stiffly on his windowsill, staring intrusively at him. He waved a hand in dismissal and drank the bottom inch of his drink. The owl simply stared, never blinking. How eerily like its master.  
"Damn you," he growled, putting his glass down and pushing away from his chair. He ambled over to the window, throwing it open. The owl soared in and alighted on the arm of his chair, but he barely took any notice.  
As the cool night air hit his face, he leaned his arms on the windowsill, sighing into the darkness.  
He wondered where Harry had gone; was he out on this cool evening? Was he with someone? Did he still laugh and smile, as he always had? Or was he morose and melancholy, as the Weasley's demeanor toward him had implied? He sighed again, wondering when this feeling would pass. He was unused to such emotion, and likewise had no way to deal with it.  
He thought of the pile of empty bottles currently littering the kitchen. Perhaps that was not the best way of coping.  
The owl hooted, low and impatient, bringing him back to his mediocre reality.  
"Yes, yes," he grumbled, turning away from the window and crossing quickly over to his chair. He scowled at the animal, daring it to make a mess of his furniture. "What does that woman want now?"  
He untied the letter and unrolled it, frown deepening at the tidy scrawl as the owl shifted but stayed in place.  
"Waiting for a reply is she?" he huffed. The owl hooted once, quick and low. "Hmph,"  
 _Severus-  
I hope you are doing well, and getting on with the peaceful life you so deserve in the wake of recent events. Indeed, I should think the absence of Harry would put you in the highest if spirits._  
He could almost hear her clipped, disapproving tone through the ink. He sneered at the parchment. How little she knew.  
But then again, it was nothing but his own fault if no one could tell how he felt. That was how he had wanted it. Job well done, Severus.  
 _I was rather hoping you may be able to help me. Of course, should you wish to return, your job will always be waiting for you. The new Potions professor, Tarrow, is hardly of your knowledge or skill, but he's a story for another time. However, if you could perhaps brew some of the more complex potions that Poppy needs, it would be highly appreciated. You can come to work here, or the school could reimburse you for the use of any of your personal stores. I, of course, understand should you choose to decline.  
Sincerely, Minerva  
_  
He shook his head tiredly at her thinly veiled attempt at drawing him back to teaching at the school. He mulled it over. It could be strangely...therapeutic, he thought. The students would definitely anger him, and he could deal with anger. Anger was easy. This melancholy sadness, however, left him at a loss. Yes, he could storm through the hallways and let his anger burn every other emotion he didn't want to feel.  
He sighed, knowing he did not want to return to Hogwarts anymore, even if he once had. Now there were twice as many memories to battle, two sets of green eyes that would follow him as he stalked through the dungeons.  
No. He would find something else.  
He grabbed an eagle feather quill and a spare bit of parchment to quickly scrawl a reply, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to return temporarily. He couldn't very well say no, could he? He shuddered at the thought of anyone else brewing the potions to be handed out to the students. He may not like them, but even he surely wouldn't wish that upon them.  
Most of the ingredients he'd need sat idly atop the shelves at his old home, the one now inhabited by someone else. He and Harry had gone to collect all the things they would need most, not hesitating to grab anything replaceable, both wound tight with the anxiety that the Death Eaters may come back.  
He grumbled at the thought of Harry as he followed the tawny owls with his eyes as it flew away.  
How did he ever come to be in this predicament? Severus Tobias Snape, (in)famous ex-Death Eater known for his quick tongue and scathing remarks. But that explained it, he supposed. It was in the nature of his ways to push everyone away and completely alienate himself, even from those whom he most wished to stay close to.  
He sighed, giving up. He had gone through this once before. It hadn't killed him.  
"Damn close," he ground out through his teeth, fighting himself. He had only signed himself over to the most powerful dark wizard to ever live. How ironic, to think that his first heartbreak had led him almost exactly to his second?  
He couldn't do this anymore. Even he didn't have the resolve.  
Perhaps he would invest in a Pensieve, and purge himself of all these errant thoughts. An intriguing idea. Then again, did he really want to lose all the time he had spent with the boy? That was almost what was driving him forward at this point. Forward into what, he wasn't sure.  
He cursed himself under his breath, damning Minerva, damning the boy, damning himself.  
He cursed his father, the root of all his evil. He laughed darkly at the thought. If only it were that easy. True, it had started with his father, but it hadn't ended there. A stronger man would have been able to overcome the influence. Black defied his entire family, turning from centuries of traditions and rules. He scoffed, unbelieving he could ever compare himself to the mongrel. Look what his defiance had gotten him in the end; a life wasted in Azkaban, only to be killed by his own cousin.  
He sighed, shaking his head. His cruelty knew no bounds, did it?  
He grimaced, realizing again just why he wouldn't burden Harry with himself. Harry didn't deserve this. He deserved more. He deserved everything. Everything that Severus could never give him. He wouldn't bring the boy down simply because he himself wanted him so badly. This was one instance that he would not be selfish, no matter what it cost. He would not give in, and darken the boy's spirit with his own. For no amount of light could ever shine from underneath his influence. It was too late for that.  
He walked back to his chair, forgoing his now empty tumbler and grabbing the entire bottle by the neck. He still had one good phial each of a hangover remedy and a Pepper-Up potion left in reserve. He would certainly need it tomorrow morning before he floo'd himself into the Headmistress' quarters.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this is the chapter I'm sure everyone has been waiting for, the one I've been working towards for months. I'm fairly certain there will only be one chapter after this, possibly two, but its not likely. Anyway, enjoy!

"Ah, Severus. Prompt, as always," Minerva looked flustered as she took a break from shuffling the papers around on her desk to glance at the clock over the mantle through which Snape had just appeared.

"I see no point in delaying the inevitable,"

Minerva pouted, picking up on his implications. "Yes, well straight to business then. I've written out a list of things that Poppy needs. Of course, do what you can, or are willing, and we can cover the rest if need be," she said briskly, straightening her back and steeling her gaze. She found a short piece of parchment on the edge of her desk and levitated it across the few feet to him. He grabbed it out of the air, sneering at nothing in particular, and everything, all at once.

He looked over the tidy scrawl, recognizing Madam Pomfrey's own handwriting. They were all very basic; a few phials each of a nausea remedy, cold relief, and some various antidotes to common pranks among the students. Nothing too laboring, but all together time consuming.

"I will most likely need lodgings at least for tonight," he sighed.

"I had imagined that would be the case. You will find your old rooms are exactly how you left them," Minerva looked up from the paper she had begun to read, and gave him a questioning glance.

"That will be fine, thank you. I imagine my personal laboratory is now Professor Tarrow's?"

"That much was unavoidable, I'm afraid. He, however, is a self-proclaimed 'fan' and has apparently read all of your published works. I'm sure he would not be against you borrowing the room for the time being,"

Snape grimaced. "You're joking,"

"I wish that were the case. But, in a pinch, he was the best we had," she said pointedly, mouth forming into the familiar thin line.

"Yes, yes," he mumbled under his breath. "I suppose I could transform my old study into a makeshift lab. It's not like I will be grading or anything of that sort. And Merlin knows I don't want my _fan club_ fawning after me the entire time," the disdainful words were dripping with sarcasm.

Minerva chuckled once and returned her gaze to the papers before her. Snape crossed to the door without a word, knowing none was even expected of him. His hand on the doorknob, he paused, feeling the tension in the room shift.

"Severus, how are you doing?" the words were soft, hesitant.

He turned slowly back to the Headmistress, honest concern evident in her eyes.

"Fine. I am doing well, thank you," his clipped tones did nothing to soothe her worries, however, as he turned in a flurry of black robes and made for the dungeons.

"You will be soon, dear. Very soon," she murmured, turning her quill between her fingers absentmindedly.

Her words elicited a soft chuckle from behind her. "Why Minerva, it does appear you've begun to grow soft in your old age,"

"Shut up, Albus, or I'll see to it that your mouth is painted over," she bit out, voice low, as she bent her head back to her work.

"And get that damn twinkle out of your eye," she added, without turning around.

Another soft chuckle followed her words, "Yes, dear."

 **x X x**

He took a deep breath as he brought his hand up to knock on the new potions professors door.

"One minute!" a rather light sounding voice called out.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the dark wood of the door, now mildly interested in what kind of man was housed on the other side.

The door opened wide, revealing a plump little man with a large forehead and what looked to be women's glasses. His light blue eyes were beady, and he licked his already chapped lips in a nervous habit. Adding a plaid pullover to complete the ensemble, and Snape deemed him completely insufferable.

"And this is my biggest fan," he muttered as Professor Tarrow squinted up at him.

"What can I help you with today, sir?" he asked, grating voice overly enthusiastic.

"I seem to have found myself in need of rudimentary potions supplies," he sneered, "I heard you were the one to talk to," Unfortunately.

"Oh," he said, looking confused, "Oh!" he rallied, a faint blush tickling his cheeks, "You must be Mister Snape! I'm such a fan! Of course, of course!" he exclaimed, presumptuously taking Snape's hand in his own. "It's my pleasure. If you'll follow me," he closed the door and started bouncing down the hallway to the dungeon classroom.

"The Headmistress said there was a chance of you returning to the school temporarily. How exciting! I've never met a Potions Master,"

"Then you're in the entirely wrong field," he mumbled, unable to tune the man out in the quiet of the empty corridor.

"I never dreamed I'd be able to meet you, of course. I've read all your articles, and looked through all the backlogs of your work,"

"Doubtful," he growled low through his teeth.

Tarrow didn't seem to hear him. It was just as well. He didn't care what the man had to say, anyway. He was a bumbling fool. He did wonder, however, why he had been brought in to brew the potions. If this man was truly qualified for the post he had been assigned - which Snape was beginning to doubt - then he could easily have brewed all of them. Then again, Minerva had always shown an air of overprotectiveness towards her Gryffindors, he assumed it had simply shifted to encompass the entire student body. It was not so unusual for her to fall back on something, or someone, she knew and trusted. Especially when it came to the children.

"...only wish it had come out better when I had attempted it. I've never seen anything like it. Excellent work, sir, excellent!" Tarrow was still gushing as Snape refocused his attention on the man as they came to the supply cupboard. "Please, take what you need, it's all replaceable,"

"Indeed," Snape muttered, preoccupied as he had already began searching for the proper ingredients, fingers dancing lightly across the various bottles.

He collected the last bottle and tucked it into his pocket, turning to nod his head in thanks to Tarrow, who still stood grinning that goofy smile beside him.

"Would you need some help?" he asked hopefully.

"I rather prefer to brew in solitude. Apologies," he said shortly, turning on his heel and striding off toward his old rooms.

Where McGonagall had picked that one up, he couldn't even guess.

"Insulting," he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head to rid himself of the mans annoying presence. He almost felt bad for the students. They were surely learning even less than they had when he had been Professor. Miraculous.

As he rounded the corner that led to his own private quarters, he quite literally ran into Professor Sinistra.

"Aurora," he greeted, a hint of a question lifting up the end of the word.

What could she possibly have been doing down here? She knew her way particularly well around the dungeons. There was only one room down this corridor, and she had no business in it.

"Ah, Severus, darling," she said sweetly, an emotion he didn't recognize twinkling in her eyes. She looked rather suspicious.

"What brings you to this part of the dungeons, if I may be so bold?" he asked, trying to stay as polite as he could. This was his housemate, after all, and the new head of Slytherin.

She didn't seem to hear him, however, as she had started humming.

"What a nice boy," she mused, brushing past him, before picking up her melody again.

Snape turned to look after her. What was that all about? He had never been close to the woman, but she had never seemed unstable before. And he had definitely never been referred to as a boy, barely even when he had been one.

Shrugging, he decided it didn't matter. She had gotten dangerously close with Trelawney the few years before he left.

He placed his hand over the cool surface of the metal snake on the front of the door. He sighed softly at the touch, how the carving fit into his palm perfectly. He curled his fingers slightly along the edge, and stood there for a moment after the door had faded away, arm still raised.

This much, he did miss; his own quarters, the one place he didn't have to hide or pretend to be something he was not. This place was more a home to him than Spinner's End could ever be.

He stepped inside, looking around hesitantly. The house elves had, of course, kept everything clean, and he couldn't help the smile that pulled the edge of his lips up ever so slightly. Not wanting to linger too long, however, he made his way across to his study. Opening the door, he stopped dead. Shock held him in place as he discovered that he wasn't alone.

Harry was sitting lazily at his desk, leaning on one elbow and playing with his nails. He looked up as the door opened.

"Severus!" he exclaimed, leaning back and stretching, "I figured I'd be seeing you soon. You look dreadful," he grinned.

His air of nonchalance took Snape by surprise. It was as if nothing had gone awry between them, like they were meeting for a casual lunch date. If he were a Slytherin, he might be wary. Granted, if it were anyone besides the green eyed menace, he would be wary. But he couldn't help but feel the swell of joy at seeing the boy smile; joy accompanied by guilt and sorrow. What could he possibly want? Their parting hadn't been exactly amiable.

"Potter, what are you doing? I have potions to brew," he was proud at how scornful the words came out, sneering when the clear dismissal didn't phase him. Harry waved that off impatiently.

"No you don't. Poppy never asked for anything, I believe she's fully stocked. Actually, I do believe I helped finance it. Even I don't want Professor Tarrow in charge of anything intended to be ingested," he shuddered slightly, obviously having already met the man. So he had some common sense after all.

"Then why, pray tell, am I here?" he drawled.

"Because I asked you to be," Harry said simply. A raised eyebrow from Severus prompted him to amend, "Well, I asked Professor McGonagall to ask you to be. Professor Tarrow was surprisingly enthusiastic to help out as well. Hopeless romantic, he is," Harry chuckled.

Snape stayed stoic as ever, waiting.

"We need to talk," Harry said, sobering up and looking serious for the first time since Snape had entered the room.

"I have nothing to say that you haven't already heard," Severus snapped, finding it easier to be angry than to actually let himself feel the emotions brewing just below the surface.

"That's fine," Harry said, standing up and slowly making his way around to the front of the desk and leaning on it. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leveled Snape with an intense look, "but I do."

"How did you get in here?" he asked coldly, glaring around the room as if it were the walls themselves he ought to blame.

"I still have a trick or two up my sleeve, Sev."

He snorted at that, ignoring the absurd nick name walking over to a cabinet and emptying his pockets of the now useless ingredients. When he turned around again, he wasn't surprised to find the green gaze focused intently upon him.

"Ridicule all you want, yet here I sit," Harry shrugged, not caring if Snape would scoff at his words. It didn't make them any less true. It had been surprisingly easy to convince the silver snake on the door to let him in. "Anyway, I'm here to bring you down off your high horse," Harry said, fighting a grin at the look of utter bewilderment on Snape's usually guarded face, "Yes. Even you need to be brought to reality sometimes. I'm not letting you run from me anymore, Snape. I don't know what it is you think you're running from but you can slow down now. No ones chasing you; can't you see that? You're only running from yourself."

"Do clue me into whatever you're babbling about, Potter." It came out with less of a bite than he had intended, but the exasperated look on Harry's face told him it had been harsh enough.

Harry took a deep breath and visibly steeled himself. "What happened, before I left- I want a chance to talk about it, to explain,"

"Explain what?" Snape spat, "I made myself perfectly clear. No more explanation is necessary, Potter; you are wasting my time,"

"No," Harry said plainly, "I don't believe that. I don't believe after all we went through, after everything. I don't believe you still hate me. You may have made yourself _clear_ that day, but you also made yourself clear at the wedding, and when we stayed in the Burrow. And you were perfectly _clear_ that day in Flourish and Blotts. So _no_ , I _don't_ believe you. And we _need_ to talk," he huffed, face slightly red by the end of his speech. He had made a resolve to get this taken care of one way or another, and he would see it through.

Snape wavered. Was he really that transparent? Could Harry really know, when no one else did?

It would be so easy to give in, to confirm all the lurking suspicions in the boys mind. It would be nice.

He scowled at the feeling that awoke in the very pit of his stomach at the thought. No. This wouldn't happen. He squashed his feelings down again and glared at the young man in front of him. It came with more difficulty this time, which put a smug smile on Harry's face.

Snape growled low in his throat; whether at himself or Harry, he didn't know.

As Harry's grin grew wider, Severus sighed, letting the tension out of his body and pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked. There was no harshness to his tone, no scorn or mocking. A simple question.

Harry answered just as simply. "You,"

The word rang between them and hung heavily in the silence.

Snape straightened, looking him in the eye. "Impossible," he whispered.

No one had ever wanted him. He had had partners, sure, but never come morning. He was desirable for the act itself, in the darkest hours of the night, but never for anything more, a fact that hadn't bothered him in many years.

"Indeed," Harry said, twisted grin lifting one side of his mouth.

He walked slowly towards the older man, arms out as if to catch him should he fall. Snape glared half-heartedly at the hands before him, as if that would really stop his advance. He feared he would not be able to deny Harry whatever he wanted this time, and did not trust himself to speak any more. Harry gently laid his hands on Snape's waist, and waited until he caught his gaze.

"You keep punishing yourself for youthful indiscretions," he said softly, "Ones that have been forgiven tenfold."

"Did you practice that?" Snape leered, voice heavy with sarcasm, hiding how impressed he was with the young man standing before him.

Harry smiled softly, moving his hands farther back, pulling Snape closer.

"Potter..." he warned, voice coming out in a whisper.

"Sev," Harry acknowledged playfully, grinning up at him.

Snape swallowed. He was frozen, helpless to do anything to stave off the advances, finding he didn't really want to.

"I forgive you, Severus," Harry whispered in his ear as he held him flush against his own body. "I've always forgiven you,"

Snape felt all his resistance dissolve, and fear took over. He didn't know how to do this, he couldn't do this. But even he didn't have the control to stop now. He was being selfish, letting Harry get this far. They would both pay. Harry could feel the tension in his body, and he looked into the dark eyes, seeing the panicked look.

"Calm down," he said, voice sill hushed, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand, "We'll figure it out,"

Snape looked skeptical.

Could it be that simple? He wanted this, sure. Was that all they needed? Desire to be together? Could they really work the rest out as long as they had that?

"What I take I keep," he warned quietly, "Don't do this."

"I know that, and I know what I'm doing," he said confidently, and in that moment, Snape believed him.

The anxiety bubbled in his stomach and floated up his throat, choking him, until he was unable to speak, even if he had wanted to. His stomach fluttered as Harry leaned in slowly, keeping his gaze on him to gauge his reaction. He smiled slightly before closing his eyes, and then his lips were on his.

It was gentle, a soft brush of lips, but it completely undid Snape.

He wrapped his arms around Harry, and held him tighter. When he kissed him again, it was no longer soft and hesitant, but free and passionate. He lifted a hand to the back of Harry's head, holding him, caressing the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Harry let himself be held, reveling in the feeling of Snape all around him; all he could taste was the man, all he could see was the warmth of emotion dancing behind his eyelids.

When they parted, Harry laid his forehead against Snape's, both men breathing heavily.

Snape moved his hand from Harry's neck, placing it against his chest. He felt Harry's pace quicken with the movement, a flicker of fear  in his green eyes, no doubt remembering all to clearly the all too similar situation last time they had been together. As he rested his hand there gently, his heart slowed again, and Harry raised a hand to hold Severus' against his heart.

"I can't change," he whispered, looking down at their hands as his voice shook.

"I don't want you to," Harry answered quickly.

He looked into the clear emerald gaze, searching for the disgust or pity he half expected, but found none. All that was there was a blinding happiness, a fierce joy. The expression nearly left him speechless.

"Potter..."

"Shh," he lifted a hand to tuck a stray hair behind Snape's ear, "It doesn't matter anymore."

Snape highly doubted that, but for the time being, he would simply enjoy. Something he hadn't let himself do in Merlin only knew how long.

He would enjoy Harry, for as long as Harry would allow.

He would not give up this time.

He would not give up ever.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh the last one D:  
> I hope you guys enjoy it, it's rather short, but I didn't want to spoil it with being too long-winded.  
> I'm not sure I like the very end, but ah well, I hope you do. This has been my baby and I'm quite upset over the fact that its over.

"You're not sick, get up," Severus snapped, looking past his reflection to glare at Harry through the mirror.

"I am. Terribly, terribly ill. Highly contagious," he coughed for good measure, snuggling farther into the comforter he had wrapped around himself. 

Snape sighed as he fixed the cuffs on his shirt sleeves. "You weren't ill last night," he muttered darkly, turning around and pinning Harry with an ominous smirk. 

Harry swallowed, sniffling a little as his only argument. Snape strode across to their bed and leaned over the slight frame encompassed under the mass of blankets. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he tilted forward, grazing his teeth along Harry's ear. Harry shivered, turning his head slightly to catch Severus' lips in a kiss. Snape indulged him, swallowing the small noise of contentment that came from deep within Harry's throat. He pulled back suddenly, ripping the blanket from around the boy. 

 "Get up," he snarled shortly. 

"Sev! I could die!" Harry sounded shocked. 

"As if my life would be so easy," he replied smoothly. 

Harry pouted, "Seriously," 

"Yes, just like this illness could've killed you exactly a year ago, and the year before that, and for the past six years if my memory holds," 

"Curious thing, sickness," Harry mused, blushing slightly. 

"You're not sick and you're not getting out of this dinner," he dictated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just like I am not getting out of tomorrow," he added, grumbling. 

"Can't we just skip it all?" Harry whined. 

"If I were to acquiesce, you would simply change your mind come tomorrow morning. It's a celebration; I thought Gryffindors were fond of such things," 

Harry grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. 

"Besides, they simply want to show their gratitude, it's the ten year mark on the end of the war. Narcissa and Draco never thought they'd be with us at this point," 

"And here I thought Malfoys were incapable of such _frivolities_ ," Harry pitched his voice low on the last word, in a terrible imitation of Snape's own. 

"Potter, behave. If I can hold my tongue around so many Weasels-" 

"Weas _leys_ ," Harry growled. 

"Freudian slip," Snape shrugged, not looking at all apologetic. 

"Yeah, yeah," Harry sighed, sitting up. He yawned, stretching wide and coming back down to run a hand along his chest. His lips twisted up in that damn crooked smile as he caught Snape staring at him. 

Snape rolled his eyes, turning back to the mirror to fix his vest. He chuckled once and sighed again, eyeing Severus. 

"You look nice," 

"Don't sound so surprised," he growled, patience growing thin. As much as he loved the brat, he really was quite difficult to live with. 

"I'm going," Harry muttered, getting up and padding morosely to the bathroom. "But I still don't know why we need _three_ piece suits, it's just dinner. Honestly, it's as if they've never even _heard_ of..." he trailed off as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Snape chuckled low, shaking his head at the young man. He turned back and forth in front of the mirror. He frowned; something looked off. Smoothing his hair, he grumbled at the few grey strands throughout, no doubt Potter's fault. He looked around, thinking, and grabbed the silver silk ribbon Harry had bought him a few years back. He tied his hair back just above the nape of his neck, smoothing it down and hiding the tie underneath. He re-evaluated his appearance, still dissatisfied. 

Strong arms were around his waist then, Harry's warm body pressed against him. He was on his toes, with his head resting on Snape's shoulder. 

"Exactly what I was missing," Snape murmured, eyes softening as he looked at their joined reflection. 

He turned slightly and pulled Harry in front of him, bending to kiss him softly. His hands dropped to the slender waist, holding him tight. All too soon, he pulled back, and frowned, focusing his attention on Harry's vest. 

"Buttoned," he chastised, quickly buttoning his vest together with nimble fingers. 

Harry pouted, "Yes, sir" he muttered. 

It didn't seem like Severus ever let him kiss him for near long enough. Snape paused, lifting an eyebrow as he glanced up at Harry. 

"Yes, _dear_ ," Harry corrected, grinning ruefully. 

Snape sighed, shaking his head, and straightened, taking in Harry's appearance. 

"Crooked," he mumbled. 

"Some things never change, right?" 

Harry's grin grew wider as Snape just rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. He let out a soft chuckle despite himself, looking sideways at Harry. His green eyes were twinkling, shining as they took Severus in. He let a small smile grace his lips as Harry's eyes softened, showing a sense of true contentment. 

"Come here, you insolent brat," Snape purred.

Harry took a step closer, shaking his head in amusement at the way Snape had let the words fall gracefully off his tongue, a term of endearment after so many years. 

Snape sighed and reached out, grabbing Harry by the bottom of his vest and tugging him closer. 

He dropped his head and leaned in for a kiss, his hand coming up to rest on Harry's cheek. 

The smaller, lithe body melted against his and he held him tighter, wrapping his arms firmly around the slender waist and deepening the kiss. Harry's hands were in his hair, toying with the ribbon and gently pulling on the ends of the soft hair.

When they finally broke apart for a breath, Snape drew Harry flush against him, coming to rest with his cheek against the top of the younger man's forehead. He held him tightly, not wanting to let go.

He thought about simply giving into the brat's idea of forgoing this dinner altogether, however much he might regret it when he found himself standing in the middle of the Burrow tomorrow. The idea of the scrumptious man in front of him almost made it worth it. Almost.

He sighed, regretting his words before he even spoke them.

"We'll be late," he muttered quietly.

Harry smiled against his chest at the words. Late as they may be, Severus had made absolutely no move to break apart from him and get on their way.

"We can't be late, we're the guests of honor. Everyone else is simply early,"

Snape chuckled once, "What a very _Gryffindor_ notion of you,"

Still, he didn't move.

"I love you," Harry whispered against his coat, placing a light kiss on his black clad shoulder.

Snape tightened his grip, feeling Harry do the same against his own back.

"I love you too," he said softly into the messy black hair that was currently tickling his cheek. "I love you too," he murmured.

They broke apart, looking into each others eyes for a second before Severus hastily turned away, clearing his throat.

"Right. I trust you will be willing to side along apparate?"

"Of course," Harry agreed, moping slightly over the sudden loss of contact. He supposed he should be used to it by now.

"Shall we?" Snape turned to him, extending a hand.

Harry smiled, grasping the slender fingers in his own. 

Snape squeezed his hand gently, mind already miles beyond their dinner. 

"Let's get this over with," Harry said seriously, looking eager to get going.

"Yes, let's," Snape growled hungrily, eyes drinking up Harry's elegant form.

Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small smile and blush that accompanied it. He might never get used to the way Severus looked at him like that.

They left their house for the cold streets of Dublin, hand in hand, like they had for the past six years, and like they would for the rest of their lives.


End file.
